Someday Home (11 page)

“Good seeing you, Lynn. I'm feeling recharged. There's a booth I need to find that I heard has some great punch needle embroidery patterns and kits.”

Mrs. Lundberg said good-bye to her friend, and she and her other friend talked as they ate their lunches.

Judith paused, halfway through her salad. For some reason she ignored her mother's training and listened—eavesdropped, actually—because she had just heard a comment about a lake and looking for housemates. Again against her mother's dire warning that curiosity killed the cat, she asked, “Where do you live, if I may ask?”

“On Barnett Lake near Detroit Lakes.” Mrs. Lundberg leaned back to include her. “This is my daughter-in-law Margaret Marie Lundberg. Maggie.”

“Nice to meet you. I'm Judith. I know this is a crazy question, but are there loons there?”

“Oh yes. When we're out canoeing, we often see an adult swimming with her babies on her back.”

Judith's heart took a little skip. “Really? I've lived in Minnesota all my life and I've never seen that. Their call is so haunting.”

Maggie smiled. “Up where we live, it's a way of life. Mom has remodeled her house to try something new; she's even given it a name, like they name cottages in England. Loon Rest.”

“That's beautiful. Trying something new?”
Judith, you are so out of line!

“Well, my husband died,” Mrs. Lundberg said with a smile that trembled just a little.

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Melody said.

“Thanks. But I have a big house and I feel the need to do something different.”

Maggie leaned over. “Understand, that's in spite of having her grandchildren right across the field and the family plumbing business right there and still going strong. My husband and his brother run that.”

“Now, Maggie, you know it's not that I'm lonely, because really, I'm not. Still sad at times, but…” Mrs. Lundberg shrugged with her hands. After a sucked-in breath, she continued, “So I read about something called shared housing, and it intrigued me.” She looked at Judith, then Melody. “Have you ever heard of that?”

“Families have been sharing houses forever; this is different?” asked Melody.

“Different in that the people who do it are usually not related. For instance, I met two women who were friends before they decided to buy a house together. But they were single and could see the sense of it. The convenience.”

“I see.” Judith nodded. “And my friend's daughter went to graduate school for a PhD, so she and three other grad students bought a house. They anticipated being in school five years, so in the long run it was quite a bit cheaper than renting. When one graduated, she would sell her share to someone new.”

Mrs. Lundberg nodded. “Exactly. There are many ways to go about it, but the bottom line is the same. Usually there are private quarters for each person, and they share the rest of the house. That's what I have set up. I have a big log house, so it wasn't hard. I'm looking for two single women who want to do this.”

Maggie wagged her head. “We have no idea how to go about finding these women, but Mom insists that God will bring the right ones together.”

“I take it you are out in the country?”

“There is a convenience store, a veterinarian, and a pizza place in Barnett, about a mile or so from our house. And Detroit Lakes nearby has basic amenities.”

“One of the don't-blink-or-you'll-miss-it so-called towns,” Maggie said with another smile. “Oh, and the grade school is there, too, where my three kids go.”

Judith was almost afraid to ask her next question. “How far are you from a city—not just shopping, but higher ed?”

“Higher ed? There's a community college and a satellite of the University of Minnesota about an hour away.”

Loons! And a college!
And…Judith was practically hyperventilating. “And what are your requirements of those you want to share with? Or do you already have people in mind?”

“Well, single women. I only have space for two and I have a guest room for visitors. Each suite has a fair-sized bedroom, a full bath, and a view of the lake. We're building a second garage that will be ready before winter.”

Maggie picked up the thread. “Actually, it is almost ready now, and the view is gorgeous. We put out a dock in the spring and take it up at freezing. Flowers, gardens, and Mom has the most fabulous kitchen. We're hoping this can become a real family kind of thing.”

Judith made sure her mouth did not hang open. Was there any possibility that this might be the answer to a dream she just discovered forty-eight hours earlier? “Now I really am asking for too much. Can you see the sunrise or sunset?”

“The house faces east. I love to sit on the deck and watch the sunrise, and the reflections in the evening are just as spectacular.” Mrs. Lundberg studied Judith. “Do you think you might be interested?”

Nodding slowly, Judith barely more than whispered, “I think so.”

S
o you are serious about coming to Barnett Lake next week? And of course you are welcome to stay with me, try your room out, if you will.” Lynn smiled at Judith Rutherford.

The show was over, and Lynn and Maggie sat with Judith and her cousin at breakfast before heading home.

Judith bobbed her head. “If I change my mind, I will call you. I'm going to check with several colleges in the area regarding their classes. I am sure by this time that I will be starting from the beginning. I think credits that don't end in a degree expire after ten years. Not that I remember a whole lot of that first year anyway; been a lot of years in the meantime.” Judith glanced at her cousin. Melody did not look overjoyed. Apparently this was an abrupt change in plans of some sort. What plans Lynn could not guess.

Lynn asked, “Do you use a GPS?”

While Judith shook her head, Melody answered, “I'll bring ours.”

“How about I e-mail you the directions, just in case? For some crazy reason, people in our area seem to have a bit of trouble with GPS. It leads them back along a dirt track that ends at a tree. Perhaps the reception isn't the best or something.”

Judith asked, “I thought of another question last night. Do you have a dog?”

Lynn could feel her smile slip. “We did but had to put him down about a month ago. Old age. He was my husband's dog.”

“Will you be getting another or would you mind if I got one?”

“You don't want a little yappy thing, do you?”

“I have no idea what I want; I've never had a dog in my life. Or a cat either.”

Maggie whispered a sad “oh.”

They said their good-byes a few minutes later and all headed for their cars. They were no sooner on the interstate than Maggie commented, “You've made your mind up about her, haven't you?”

“Have I?” Lynn studied her daughter-in-law's profile. “Do you have objections?”

“I thought we had agreed that you would ask for references and investigate those applying before making up your mind.”

“I can still do that.”

“You know Phillip is a stickler for wise business sense.”

“There's something I've realized; this is not a business venture but a life. And from the sound of things, Judith has had a rather restricted one.”

“You also agreed to not make a final decision until you saw the two women together. This is the first person you've even talked with.”

“It came about in a rather strange way, you have to admit. Looks to have God's hands all over it to me.”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “I don't really want to be there when you talk this over with Phillip.”

“Since I am convinced this is all God's plan, we'll just have to wait and see. So, now let's change the subject. What part of the show did you like the best?”

“You didn't spend a whole lot of money there. I'm proud of you.” Melody checked her rearview mirrors and changed lanes.

Judith snickered. “You more than made up for it.”

“Actually, this time I was more careful than the first time I went. That's where I bought my quilting machine. You saw the good show deals they offer.”

“I could have watched the machine embroidery demonstrations for hours. I'm surprised that intrigued me so.” Judith willed herself to relax. How long had it been since someone else had been the driver, except on the way to the show?

“You can try out mine. I have all the instructional DVDs and a lot of simple patterns. I can tell you, it is an expensive hobby.”

“Any chance of a rest stop break? That coffee…”

“No problem. There's a rest area three or four miles ahead.”

Melody pulled into the rest area and they both went in, but Judith finished first. She walked out to the curb to wait and looked around a little. According to her conversations with the Lundberg woman, this part of the country looked much like the area where that house was situated—rather thick woodland with open glades and some cleared pastures. And a lake. And loons. Judith could certainly live in this.

Back in the car and on the road again, Melody seemed awfully quiet.

“You tired?” Judith watched the woodlands spaced out with houses and farms fly by. Obviously this land was all trees not that terribly long ago. In the Rutherford area, there had been huge trees when her great-grandfather first hacked his way in.

“Aren't you? You know if you want to kick back and sleep awhile, you can do that.”

Judith let her eyes drift closed, but images of a log house, a lake complete with loons, a dock, and reflections would not leave her alone. “You think I am making a mistake? If I go west, I mean?”

“I was hoping you would be closer, not farther away. Like preferably where you are, in my home. But if this really is your dream, then what can I say? I was the one who forced you to dream.”

“Forced me? I don't think so. Allowed me, encouraged me is more like it. I really need to see if I can get into the university. You think they have grants and financial plans for someone my age? And with so little income?”

Melody hooted. “What do you think you are, over the hill and worthless or something? Good grief, woman, we are in the prime of our lives now. Not only changing horses in midstream, we are setting out on whole new adventures.” She paused. “Regarding the finances, though, that might be to your advantage when applying for grants, etc.”

“You said ‘we.' What is your new adventure?”

Melody smiled. “Not sure if other than all I am doing through church and civic stuff, but if there is a change, you will be the second to know.”

“Anselm will probably figure it out before you tell him.”

“True, for a man he is very intuitive.”

“You better treasure that man, dear cuz,” Judith warned. “You got one in a million.”

“I know. I have to be very careful to not let little things bug me. He is a man of God but can be bullheaded at times.”

“Can't we all?”

“Are you saying I'm bullheaded?” Melody looked her way.

“Not at all. Keep your eyes on the road.” Judith heaved a sigh, and she could tell her smile was both inside and out. “Thank you for dragging me to that amazing show. You opened my eyes to a whole new world. Made me wonder if, just possibly, I have some of my mother's artistic abilities. Remember how she used to arrange the flowers? I can remember her drawing pictures for us to color. Remember?”

“I do and I think my mother kept some of those. She used to groan that her sister got all the talent. I'll have to check that box.”

“The box?” Judith frowned.

Melody nodded. “A box of mementos. She kept all kinds of memory things in a box for me; well, actually for each of her children, all personalized for each of us, too. She went through all the old pictures and made sure she kept the important things like graduation hats, 4-H ribbons, honors of any kind, our report cards.”

“I want to see yours. Mother kept a lot of things and I kept those boxes, but there is no order like that. Oh my word!” She thought a few minutes half watching a long white barn and well-kept buildings, followed by many, many trees that whisked by. “What will I do with all the things I kept if I move to Lynn's house?”

“A storage unit until you decide; surely they have storage units around there.”

“I kept my bedroom furniture because Mother and I bought that together. And I have her chair.”

“The rocker she did the needlepoint seat and back for? I remember that seat; beautiful handwork.”

Judith felt elated and sad simultaneously, an odd sensation. “Yes. I can hardly bear to sit in it; it makes me cry and realize how much I miss her. Probably more now, which is crazy.”

“Just remember, your room always waits for you here. And I expect you for holidays, at least. Just think, soon your life is going to revolve around school holidays. I'll help you research first thing in the morning. After all, two computers are better than one. When we go visit Lynn, we'll go on over to the college campus and get your new life rolling.”

“You really believe this is all going to happen, don't you?”

“I do. You don't?”

“Dreams coming true are a little hard for me to accept right now. We shall see.”

M
om, I have something to tell you.”

Lynn knew well that guilty look of her younger son. “What? Can't be that bad.”

“I hope not but Josie said…”

Do not roll your eyes, smile.
She even tried to keep a mother's exasperation look at bay. “Now you have my curiosity in full force. For Pete's sake, just tell me. I promise not to ban you from apple pie for the rest of your life.” Hoping to make him smile didn't work. What could it be? “Tommy!”

“Well, I put your sharing your house idea up on my Facebook page.”

“You didn't. You're teasing, right?” At the slight shake of his head, she ordered herself to breathe. Which she did. She'd heard making oneself breathe could bring on patience and right now she really needed a bucketful.

“It seemed a good idea at the time. You know, see if anyone else has done it, what their experiences were. I could go take it off maybe.”

She could have sworn they just hit a time warp and he was ten years old again. And then suddenly the room became very warm. Unbearably warm. On impulse she walked over to the thermostat; there was nothing wrong with the room temperature.

“Mom? Are you all right?”

Hot flash. She sighed. “Just getting old.”

“I probably should have asked first, huh?”

Breathe.
“Might have been a good idea. What if we get a whole lot of cranks who…?”

“I didn't put your address or anything stupid like that. Or even your name, come to think of it. And only my friends and their friends can see it.” He held up a hand, back to adulthood. “But here's the interesting thing. You remember Charlie Bishop? He came home from college with me a couple of times, I taught him how to ice fish and he caught the season's record.”

“And your father promised to never let him come again? We all laughed at that threat, from your dad, no less.”

“Right. Well, after graduation we kind of lost touch with each other, until Facebook a year or so ago. Been keeping in touch somewhat. But he responded to my post. Said his Mom has just been forced into a divorce, his dad turned into a jerk, and she doesn't know what she is going to do. His dad is buying her out on their house and she has to move rather abruptly.”

“Interesting.”
Oh, really, come on.
Her inner chider went into full force.

“You could talk with her.”

She could tell that this son of hers really wanted a positive answer.

“After all,” he pressed, “what can it hurt…to just talk, I mean.”

“Give him my number and have her call me.” This can't be any more a strange way to meet than at the quilt show.
God, I get the feeling you're at work again.
Sometimes, like now, she was almost sure she heard a heavenly chuckle.

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Where does she live?”

“Here in Minnesota, St. Cloud area, I think. He and his sister are both in Seattle.”

“You want a piece of apple pie?”

“You have some?” His face brightened immediately.

“One piece left of the apple cherry.” She opened the refrigerator door and brought out the pie. “Ice cream, too?”

“Why not?”

“Probably because it isn't even dinnertime yet.”

“I better call Phillip and tell him I'm a bit delayed getting back.”

“I'll bag up some cookies; that'll sooth the savage beast.”

A few minutes later, on his way out the door, he threw over his shoulder, “Her name is Angela, Angela Bishop.”

Nice to know. Four more days until Judith Rutherford arrived. And Lynn had not even had time to unpack her bags of treasures from the quilt and needlecraft show. And the garden really needed weeding. Time to call in the short troops. She texted Maggie and asked if the kids could come after school to help her weed, then headed outside to bring out the rototiller and get the weeds between the rows done, at least. After Paul died she had invested in a lightweight one that she could use and kept the heavy-duty one for digging up in the spring and on new places when she added more garden or flower beds. Would either of the women be interested in gardening? Maybe she should make up a questionnaire for them to fill out.

“You did
what
?” Angela glared at her phone, or rather glared at it in place of the son whom she wanted to do more than glare at.

“You heard me.” Charlie spoke with all reasonableness, as if suggesting she move to some outlandish place where not knowing anyone was an everyday occurrence.

“Right. I heard you, but don't be silly. I have a job here and I need to work, in case you thought I was independently wealthy.”

“But, Mom, you told Gwynn on the phone that you needed to start a new life and maybe in a new place.”

“I was just running off at the mouth.”

“So what is happening now at that real estate office? Can you make a living there? A decent living?”

What could she say? The short sale fell through, one couple backed out of searching for a house, and the potential seller changed his mind and went with another agency. She had zero income until the one in escrow closed. She'd not found an apartment she could move to. The ones she could afford were not palatable and the ones she liked she couldn't afford. Sometimes she wanted to do Jack bodily damage. He refused to give her an extension, said he needed the house now.

Lately, overwhelmed was her only recognizable emotion. No, fury was the other.

“So will you call her?”

“Charles Edward Bishop, do not put any more pressure on me at the moment.”

“Please call her and I'll stop bugging you—for now.”

She could tell he hoped she'd be reasonable. After all, he was trying to help. Not like some other male she knew.

“Okay, I will call her. Only because she and her family were so good to you those years ago. But I can tell you right now, this just isn't going to work. You don't just pick up and move a real estate business.”

“Thanks. I'll tell Gwynnie to keep on praying.”

“Yeah, well, I'm glad to hear someone else is praying, too. Right now I don't seem to be getting any answers.” Or heavenly help either. She thought of the day before when all the real estate transactions came tumbling down and she had no further options other than cold-calling, which she hated. Maybe crawling back into bed and pulling the covers over her aching head was the best remedy.

Lynn stared at the pad of paper on her lap. At the top: “List of Questions to Ask.” “Maybe I should just do a checklist for each of us to fill out.” Thanks to Tommy, she had gone online and started looking for other people embarking on a life change like this and discovered there was a whole world out there of communities, of bloggers, and of nonprofits formed to help people do this. Shared housing was nothing new, but it was growing more popular all the time.

She wondered if there were other people in the Detroit Lakes area who were already experiencing the situation. It seemed most of the houses and communities she had researched were in cities with access to public transportation and all kinds of entertainment. She looked out over the lake where a flock of mallards settled on the smooth lake surface; their duck chatter could be heard on the slight breeze off the lake. She'd be hearing loons anytime now.

Miss Minerva wound herself around Lynn's legs and chirped permission to lap sit.

“Sorry, I'm busy.”

The cat jumped up anyway and bumped her head on Lynn's chin, a demand to
pet me, pay attention to me
. Lynn held up her pad of paper and scribbled, “Must love animals, no smoking, light drinking,” and watched the flock of chickadees squabble at the bird feeders. Life in the country was a far cry from city life, different in just about every way imaginable. Her phone sang and Minerva jumped down, glaring over her shoulder as she stalked off. Settling on the deck railing, she took up bird-watching, too.

“Hello, Paul's Plumbing.”

“Oh, sorry, I must have the wrong number.”

“Whom are you calling?” This wasn't the first time this had happened. But the calls had been transferred to her once their help left the office.

“Lynn Lundberg.”

“Speaking. How can I help you?”

“Ah, well, my son said I should call you regarding your idea of sharing your house.”

“Are you by any chance, Mrs. Bishop, uh…” She couldn't remember the first name. “Sorry.”

“Yes, Angela Bishop. My son, Charles, visited you several times.”

“Yes, I remember Charles well. Fine boy. Well, he was boy then. Tommy told me about you yesterday morning. I was hoping you would call.” She softened the business voice she'd answered with. “Do you do Facebook?”

“Not as much as Charles does. He and my daughter, Gwynn, text all the time, too.”

“Do they expect you to do the same?”

“They do.” Her voice took on a bit of a smile.

“I know, mine too, and my two sons live near here, one across the field, the other less than a mile away. My daughter teaches school. Tommy said your two are really far away in Seattle.”

“Right. And some days it feels farther away than others.” They chatted for a while before Angela asked her first real question. “I am a real estate agent and this makes me wonder why you want to share your house.”

“I have a rather large log house, and since my husband died, the house has felt even larger. We talked about my selling it, but the term
downsizing
makes me gag. I love my house, but one person living here alone seems a waste. And besides, help with the mortgage would be another solid reason.”

“So a housemate will pay rent.”

“Yes, I know sometimes women buy a house together, but not here.”

“Have you advertised?”

“No, I hope I don't have to. I'd rather God brought the right people here since this seems to be His idea anyway.” There, put the faith questions right out there.

“The thought of moving away from this area seems overwhelming on one hand and a welcome reprieve on the other.” Angela paused, obviously thinking. “Is there any chance you could send pictures and maps?”

“I could, but the best idea would be for you to come see. I'm warning you, though, if you want city living, this is not it. Detroit Lakes is the closest real town and it's about ten miles away. We're about forty-five minutes from Fargo.”

“There are real estate offices there, of course.”

“Yes, some very good ones.” Then for some strange reason, Lynn asked, “Is that what you want to do with the rest of your life? Sell real estate, I mean.”

Angela heaved a sigh, audible even over the phone. “I wish I knew.”

“You are welcome to come visit, spend the night if you'd like.”

“Could my kids come visit me there?” She sounded like a little girl lost.

“Of course. And your grandchildren, too.”

“Perhaps someday, but right now, they are career focused. Charlie has always talked of going back to your house. He so loved it there but he is a confirmed city dweller.”

Lynn flipped to her calendar. “When would you like to come?”

Another sigh. “Would tomorrow be too soon? I don't know about spending the night.”

Lynn swallowed and kept her voice level when it wanted to squeak. “That will be fine. If you want directions…”

“No, I have my GPS. I'll see you after dinner tomorrow. Can I let you know then if I decide to spend the night?”

“The bed will be ready for you.” They did their good-byes and Lynn sat staring at the lake. Miss Minerva jumped back up in her lap, knocking the pad of paper to the deck floor. Lynn sat stroking the cat and thinking about the phone call. Talk about a hurting woman. In fact, from the brief histories they shared, both Judith and Angela had been through some pretty traumatic situations in the very recent past. Was this good or bad in regards to building a shared house with the three of them? Or were there other people to interview, too?
Lord, I wish I knew what you are doing in all this.