The Patricia Kiyono Christmas Collection (24 page)

It looked as if the outside was nearly
finished. The new building would be slightly larger than the old
one had been and would have a slightly more modern design. But the
tall steeple, seen for miles around, would remain. The Zutphen
Community Church had stood tall through generations of
parishioners, and the current congregation had insisted that this
could not change. Sometimes, tradition was good.

Turning back to the parsonage, he went to
Matt’s study. His brother looked up with a smile.

“
How did it go with Mom
this morning?”

“
I got her there, thanks to
Greta and someone named Leticia Evans.”

Matt’s eyes widened and he set his pen down.
“Greta and Leticia got Mom to go to the doctor?”

“
Yes. I called Greta
because Mom wouldn’t come out of her apartment. I told Mom I was
going to call the police. Didn’t know what else to do, so I called.
Greta got Leticia to call Mom, and the next thing I knew, she was
storming out.”

Mike couldn’t remember the last time he’d
heard his brother laugh so hard. Tears ran down his cheeks, and he
nearly fell out of his chair. It lifted his heart to see his
serious sibling so cheerful.

Finally, after Matt got his laughter under
control, he wiped his eyes. “So, what happened at the
doctor’s?”

“
Same as always. She
refused to let me in, wouldn’t talk all the way there or back. Went
straight to her room when we got home.”

Matt sobered. “Sounds like it’s time for the
big guns.”

“
You think we’ll be able to
get Power of Attorney to see her medical records?”

“
We’ll have to try. Let’s
start with Leticia Evans. If she knows how to get Mom to do
something she doesn’t want to do, I want to find out how it’s
done.”

Helen stood in
the middle of her living room. Making a slow
pirouette, she took in mementos of the past forty years of her
life. Pictures, souvenirs, knick-knacks of all kinds. The cuckoo
clock handed down from Oma and Opa DeGroot. How could she bear to
part with any of it? Paul said she’d be able to keep only a small
portion of it when she moved to a smaller place. She’d already gone
through her bedroom and boxed up most of her clothing. That hadn’t
been quite so painful, since most of it was outdated, worn, or
didn’t fit. But this room and the den — the heart of her home —
these were the rooms where she would have the most trouble
“dumping” things, as her son put it.

Paul insisted she could no longer afford to
live in her home. Her son worked with numbers every day, so he must
know what he was talking about. He’d taken her to Holland to visit
some condos built for seniors that she could apply for, but before
she could move, she would need to “unload” most of her stuff. Junk,
he’d called it. He didn’t seem to have a sentimental bone in his
body. Hadn’t had any interest in keeping any of his high school
mementos — sports letters, graduation photos, any of it. “You’ve
got the pictures, Mom. I’ve got the memories. That’s good enough
for me.”

So now she had to toss away her memories.
No, the things that sparked her memories. Nancy and Bonnie had both
promised to come over later to help put prices on things for a
garage sale. Her daughters-in-law were much more knowledgeable
about that kind of thing. Nancy had already placed an ad in the
local flyer, and Bonnie had offered to post signs in some of the
local businesses. Thank goodness both of her sons had married such
kind, helpful women.

It was a sunny October day, one the
weathermen referred to as Indian Summer. Feeling a little stuffy,
she went about opening all the doors and windows. The warm breeze
calmed her a bit, and she went out to her car to bring in the boxes
she’d gotten from Zylstra’s Market the day before.

Now what? She’d probably need to sell most
of the furniture, too. Like the hutch holding her collection of
angels. Would she have to get rid of all the angels, too? She’d
probably have to sell the piano. So many fond memories included
family gatherings around that piano. Joe’d had a wonderful baritone
voice and had loved to sing while she accompanied him. How could
she possibly bear to see it go? Her vision clouded as the tears
started to fall. Before long, they gave way to sobs, and she sank
to the floor in an emotional mess.

She didn’t know how long she knelt there,
but a knock on her front door gave her a start. She searched her
memory, wondering if she’d forgotten about an appointment. Nancy
and Bonnie wouldn’t have knocked at the front door, they would have
simply walked in through the garage. She swiped at her eyes with
her sleeve and sniffed. Getting up, she stepped toward the front
door.

A tall figure filled the doorway. With the
sun behind him, it was difficult to make out his features clearly.
Or maybe it was the tears still filling her eyes that prevented her
from recognizing him.

“
Yes?”

“
Mrs. DeGroot? I’m Mike
Sikkema. I believe we ran into each other at Zylstra’s Market the
other night, when you were reaching for the almond paste. And we
saw each other again at the high school on Sunday.”

“
Oh! Of course. Sikkema?
Are you—”

“
Matt is my brother. I
wondered if I could speak to you about the apartment behind your
garage. But I can come back later if this is a bad
time.”

“
Oh no. Forgive me.” She
opened the door to let him in. “I’m just boxing things up for a big
garage sale.” She sniffled and gave a nervous laugh. “I must have
kicked up a lot of dust. Excuse me while I grab some tissues. Have
a seat, please,” she insisted, waving toward the sofa.

Mike sat, and she hurried to the bathroom to
blow her nose and compose herself. A glance at the mirror had her
gasping in embarrassment. Her hair was in disarray and her eyes
were red and blotchy, and tear stains trailed down her cheeks. She
ran a wet washcloth over her face and made a pass through her hair
with a comb. After a deep breath, she decided she was ready to face
her guest.

She started toward the living room. “Would
you like some coffee, Mr. Sikkema? I have a fresh pot.”

He turned his face to her and smiled. He
looked a lot like his brother, but a little older, and a little
more… cosmopolitan, perhaps. The haircut and clothing bespoke of
big city tastes. But he still had the warm, compassionate eyes of
her pastor.

“
Nothing for me, thanks. I
was just hoping I’d be able to find out if you were interested in
renting to me on a short term basis, and if so, I’d like to see
it.”

“
Oh! Well, I suppose if
it’s for a short term that would be good. I have to sell this
house. My son tells me I can’t afford it any more.”

“
Your son tells you that?
Do you disagree with him?”

“
I… I don’t know. He
manages my finances. I never had much to do with them when my
husband was alive, and Paul took over when he died. But I know the
allowance he gives me after paying my bills isn’t much, and he says
the only way to change that is to cut my expenses by moving to
someplace smaller.”

“
I see. Well, perhaps if I
can rent your apartment that will help pay for moving expenses. Or
maybe it will help you afford the house a little
longer.”

It was on the tip of her
tongue to ask him to return when one of her sons could be there,
but something stopped the words from emerging.
This is something you can decide on your own.
She nodded. “All right. Let me look for the keys
and you can see what you think.” She moved toward the kitchen, took
a deep breath, and tried to think. Where in the world were those
keys? She and Joe had built the apartment for her parents when
they’d needed more care and were unable to live on their own. After
they’d passed on, Paul and Nancy had used it when they first
married. Later, Jonathan and Bonnie had lived there. No one had
used it in the last five years. Where were the keys? She pulled
open several drawers, looking for the key ring.

“
Hi, Mom.” Bonnie stepped
into the kitchen, carrying a large cup from the coffee kiosk at
Zylstra’s. “Do you have company?” she asked. “I thought I was
supposed to come today.”

“
Good morning, dear. Pastor
Sikkema’s brother is here asking about the apartment. I can’t find
the keys. Do you know where they are?”

“
Sure. You put them in an
envelope and put them in the bottom drawer of your writing
desk.”

“
Oh, of course! Thank you
so much.” She rushed off to the study, found the keys, and went
back to the living room, where Bonnie had introduced herself to
Mike and was having a lively conversation about gourmet
coffee.

“
Thanks to my wonderful
daughter-in-law, I have the keys,” she announced. “Do you want to
look at it now?”

“
Certainly, if it’s no
trouble,” he replied, standing.

“
Do you have anything you
want me to work on while you’re out there, Mom?” Bonnie
asked.

“
I have a few boxes of
clothing and odds and ends in my bedroom. If you could go through
those and decide how much they’re worth, that would be a big
help.”

Bonnie nodded. “Sure.” Turning to Mike, she
cast a sunny smile. “It was good to meet you, Mr. Sikkema. I hope
you like the apartment. I think it’s a great idea for Mom to rent
it out. Jon and I worry about her rattling about in this big house
by herself.” She took off down the hall toward the bedroom.

Helen gestured to the front door. “Let’s go
around the house to the side entrance.”

~~~~

Mike followed Helen
around the house. The paved walkway was overgrown
with weeds, and it looked as if the lawn was badly in need of
mowing. The house’s appearance contrasted with most of the homes in
this area. Most followed the Dutch tradition of manicured lawns and
tasteful landscaping. This place looked like it had once been well
kept, but now it looked… neglected. Probably the son hadn’t
continued his father’s pride in the house. Or maybe he was busy
with his own house. But then Helen had mentioned money woes. She’d
never sell the house looking like this. Especially when surrounded
by immaculately kept homes. Maybe he could help…

But no. He had problems enough of his own.
He’d look at the apartment and see if it suited his needs.

Five minutes later, he knew. The charming
little apartment was perfect. It had comfortable furniture, plenty
of room to stretch, and wireless Internet. He hadn’t expected that,
but maybe her husband had used it for his business.

She certainly didn’t seem old. She looked
healthy and moved with grace. Other than not remembering where the
keys were, she seemed sharp mentally.

“
How much would you charge
to rent this place out?” he asked.

“
I don’t know,” she
admitted. “The last people to use this place were my son and
daughter-in-law, and we didn’t charge them all that much.” She
named a figure that had Mike’s eyebrows rising.

“
That’s pretty cheap rent.
Right now I’m spending a hundred dollars a night at the bed and
breakfast.”

She gasped. “You’re staying at Lilah’s
place? The Rose Garden?”

He nodded.

She muttered something that sounded like,
“Doggone shyster,” before pursing her lips and furrowing her brow.
He had a sudden urge to kiss the frown away…

Where in the world had that thought come
from? I don’t even know this woman.

She seemed to have come to a decision. “How
about two hundred dollars a week?”

He stuck his hand out. “Deal.”

Mike hummed along
with the tune blaring from the radio as he took
the highway headed toward Grand Rapids. Now that he’d moved out of
the Rose Garden and settled into Helen’s apartment, he’d decided to
check out a few of the venues of the Art Prize competition, and the
sunny October day would be perfect for strolling through the city.
Traffic was light at this time of day, and for the most part he had
the road to himself.

A lone gray car sat on the side of the road
a few miles away from the nearest exit. It looked a lot like the
car his new landlady drove, and he slowed down. Sure enough, Helen
sat in the driver’s seat, glaring at her cell phone. He pulled in
ahead of her and walked back to her car. She glanced up, saw him,
and opened her own door.

“
Hello, Mike.” She seemed
glad to see him.

“
Hi. What happened? Got car
trouble?”

“
Brain trouble. I ran out
of gas because I forgot to fill up. And yes, I’ve seen the light
blinking on the dash for the last week.”

“
It’s been blinking for a
week?”

“
Yes, but I’ve been busy.
I’ve had to—” She broke off suddenly, and her smile disappeared.
“Did Paul send you here?”

“
Who?”

“
My son. Did he call you to
come and check on me, to make sure his helpless mother managed to
get all the way to Grand Rapids on her own? You realize it’s less
than an hour away.”

“
Um, no. Nobody sent me. I
saw you sitting in your car and thought you needed help. Silly me.
You’ve got everything under control. Sorry for the
intrusion.”

“
Wait.” She said it so
quietly he thought he’d misunderstood. But when he turned back, the
woman standing by her car was no longer the determined little
sprite bent on doing it all herself. In her place was a lost soul,
a woman in need.