The Second Half (9 page)

“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 Mellie. “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.

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.”

“Mooooooom.”

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.

When the majority was finished eating, only Torin being a slow eater, Marit pushed back her chair and raised her arms. “Okay, enough! We will now have thirty seconds of silence.” Someone snickered, someone else snorted back, and laughter burst all around the table. Even Jakey smiled, almost.

“So much for order.” Magnus had become an expert eye roller since he met Marit.

Mona leaned back in her chair. “Can I get anybody anything?”

“Ice cream?”

Arne's request spread through the ranks to become an instant chant.

Steig adopted his military voice. “No ice cream until the table is cleared and food put away.” He turned to his mother. “There is ice cream, isn't there? Otherwise we'll have to go find some.”

“Is this house ever without ice cream?” Mona smiled at her son, who at times could be the biggest kid of all. Or at least he used to be. Had he lost his exuberant youth in the last year?

“And cookies.” Torin was the quiet one of the bunch, at least so far, but at four he could still do a lot of changing.

Steig stood, Jake still on his arm. “Okay, kids clear the table, dishes in the sink for Grampy to rinse and put in the dishwasher. Moms put the food away, Magnus and Steig go for a walk.”

An instant of silence, and laughter broke out again. “Not fair.”

Steig looked at Magnus. “Sounded like a good idea to me.”

“The dads dish up the ice cream after you heat the hot fudge sauce. And you can't do that until we have counter space, so…” Mona wiggled her eyebrows at her husband. “Oh and Magnus, please get the ice cream out of the outside freezer so it can soften a bit.”

Ken stood with a groan. “Come on, kiddo.” He prodded Brit on his right. “Now!”

Brit picked up her plate and silverware.

By the time they were ready to dish the ice cream, only one glass had spilled and one plate with food hit the floor. Ambrose leaped to take care of that before Marit could get through the congestion to pick it up.

“Okay, we are eating ice cream either outside or on the porch, take your pick.” Marit held her ice cream scoop like a baton.

Arne, first in line, piped up. “Outside.”

Ken pleaded, “Porch.”

“Okay, kids outside, adults in the porch room.” She and Mona dug into the ice cream, and Ken manned the hot fudge dispensing.

Seated in comfort on the three-season porch, Mona looked at her son, whose shadow had decided to go outside with his sister, Mellie, taking care of him. Steig relaxed into his papasan chair. “Thanks, Mom, Marit, for such a fine meal. Been a while since we had all the fixings.”

“One-dish meals?” Mona asked.

“Yeah, or takeout. Thank God for their sitter, who cooks for us at times.”

“Being a single parent must be the pits.”

“On one hand, but there is no more dissension. That's worth some nonhealthy meals, not that Angela liked to cook much.”

“You are sure she cannot come after the kids?” Marit asked.

“She can try, but legally she signed herself out. My army lawyer made certain it's airtight. She doesn't want them; she made that clear, and that creep of hers made sure of that. She had the choice of him or us, and she chose him.”

“The kids seem content.”

“Mellie never mentions her out loud, and poor little Jakey reverted to babyhood, like needing diapers at night again.” He turned to his mother. “There are night pads in one of the bags so the bed stays dry. The counselor said this was normal; he'd grow out of it soon.”

“So you've been working with a counselor?” Ken set his bowl on the coffee table.

“My chaplain. He's become a good friend and, of course, understands the military. He says to tell you hello and thank you for agreeing to take the kids. I knew I was facing deployment again, but I figured down the road, and if we were all settled up here, the transition wouldn't be as rough.” He raised and dropped his hands. “World affairs don't cater to families, that's for sure.”

“Have you thought of leaving the military?”

“I plan on going the whole route. I love what I do and I'm good at it. And basically, the military has been good to me.”

Just your wife that wasn't.
Mona and Ken exchanged one of their glances. She knew he felt the same way she did. How to keep from hating a woman who would walk off and leave her kids was taking more than she thought it would. God help them if that woman tried to get back into their lives.

“Sometimes forgiveness is an ongoing sacrifice, but I am too aware of how not doing so can destroy your life. I saw it in action.”

“Meaning Angela?” Marit asked.

Steig nodded. “That's one of the things Roy has been hammering into my head.”

“Roy.” Mona frowned.

“My chaplain. He doesn't like honorifics like pastor or reverend because not all faiths use them. And he has to serve everybody. He says, ‘Do not let bitterness take root, and not forgiving leads right into bitterness.'” He glanced sideways at his mother. “She hurt my kids.”

“Physically?” Ken asked.

“No, emotionally. Far worse.”

Mona heard the door to the garage open and Ambrose's nails ticking on the tile. “They're coming in.”

“Mom?” Brit called. “Torin's all wet.”

Marit rolled her eyes. “They're probably all wet.”

Jakey clung to Mellie's hand. “Daddy, I got wet.”

“What happened?”

“I was filling Ambrose's water bucket and the hose…”

“Leaped out of your hand and splashed everyone?” Marit stood. “Come on, Magnus, let's take these three home.”

Jakey whined, “I didn't mean to.”

“Right. Is the hose still running?” Magnus asked.

“I turned it off.” Arne grinned at his dad, as if he'd saved the day.

Mellie handed her little brother to their father. “He likes the dog now.”

Ambrose shook, splattering water everywhere.

The kids shrieked, the adults laughed, and Steig bent down to pick up his now smiling son.

“I need to warn you, this guy is a water baby, never happier than when he is soaking wet. Mud pies are his specialty.” He poked Jake in the belly. “You like mud, huh?”

Jake nodded. “I am wet.”

“On that note…” Magnus motioned his family toward the garage door and out to the cars parked in the driveway.

“See you tomorrow.” Marit grabbed her purse and the bag with her now clean bowl. “If you need me, call.”

“We'll be working on all the paperwork in the morning.”

“You want me to come pick up the kids?”

“I'll call you if need be. I hate…” Steig scrubbed the back of his neck with one hand and sighed. “Time is so short.”

Mona knew he meant his time with his children. “I know. But the official retirement hoopla this Friday won't last too long. The banquet starts at seven, but we have to be there for the cocktail party before. There's a table reserved for our family even though Ken has to be at the head table. I thought we could drop the kids off at your house earlier. Let them settle in.”

“Brit thinks she is old enough to attend Grampy's party.”