Back Home Again Read online

  “You look simply exhausted, Jane,” said Louise. “Are you all right?”

  “Just tired, I guess. I haven’t been sleeping that well lately.”

  “Well, that’s about to change,” announced Alice. “It’s much quieter here than in San Francisco. Just wait until you get into your old bed. You’ll be sleeping like a log in no time.”

  Jane attempted a feeble smile. “Hope so.”

  “Are you hungry?” asked Aunt Ethel. “The church ladies have been stocking the refrigerator since yesterday. I’m sure that Alice has something yummy planned for dinner.” She glanced at Alice expectantly.

  Alice knew she was outflanked. She invited their aunt to join them for another meal.

  “Oh, if it’s no trouble. I’d love to stay.” Aunt Ethel took Jane by the arm now. “And now I can tell Jane all about Acorn Hill’s latest—”

  “I, for one, would like to hear about Jane’s latest,” interrupted Louise, taking Jane by the other arm. “Let’s go put your bags in your room while Alice starts getting things out for dinner.” She glanced at Alice. “Is that okay, dear? You’ve been such a trooper today. Perhaps Aunt Ethel would like to give you a hand—”

  “Oh, I’m fine.”

  “I don’t mind,” offered Ethel. “How about if I set the table? Did you plan on eating in the formal dining room tonight?”

  Alice really would have preferred the coziness of the kitchen, not to mention the company of her two sisters without any more “auntly” influence. Yet she knew Aunt Ethel was probably lonely, and they were, after all, family.

  “The dining room is fine,” said Alice as she removed a baking dish of ham and scalloped potatoes from the refrigerator and turned on the oven.

  She poked around the refrigerator until she found a large stoneware bowl of coleslaw that Viola Reed had dropped by this afternoon. Viola wasn’t a chapel member, but a good-hearted woman who ran the local bookstore. Alice paused to look out the kitchen window in time to see the sky growing pink—the same conch-shell color her skin had turned at the beach a few months ago when she and Father had taken an unexpected excursion one weekend. It had been a sunny June Saturday, and Father had suddenly set down his coffee cup and said, “I’d love to see the ocean today.” Although Alice had already made arrangements with Vera, she hadn’t minded canceling them. Then she drove them the four hours to the beach. It was a lovely day, and Father was so happy to see the ocean that he removed his shoes and waded right in. Alice sighed with relief. Thank God she had taken the time to go. She looked back up at the colorful sky and wondered how it could really be that late in the day already. Then she remembered that despite the unseasonable heat, it was September and the sun was going down earlier and earlier these days. It would soon be autumn. How Father had loved that time of year. She shook her head. Oh, what would she do without him?

  Chapter Four

  Jane, do you still paint?” asked Aunt Ethel as Alice served the blackberry pie for dessert. “I remember how much you loved to paint and draw when you were in high school.”

  “Actually I’ve made an attempt to pick it up again. Sort of a form of therapy, after the divorce, you know.”

  “Therapy?” repeated Aunt Ethel. “Does that mean that it’s been an unhappy divorce?”

  “What divorce isn’t unhappy?” said Alice.

  “Well, they hadn’t been married that long,” said Aunt Ethel as if a short-term relationship couldn’t break your heart as completely as a long one.

  “It was nine years,” said Alice. “That’s a pretty big chunk of a lifetime.”

  Jane tossed an appreciative glance toward Alice. “I thought so too. Sometimes I wonder how I made it last even that long. I guess I kept thinking things would get better with time.”

  “But they didn’t?” Louise asked, setting down her cup with a clink and shaking her head sadly.

  Aunt Ethel frowned. “Are you absolutely sure you did everything possible to work it out, Jane?”

  Jane looked down at her plate without answering.

  “Of course she did,” said Alice soothingly. “We all know that Jane’s not the type to give up easily on anything. Remember when she was determined to build that tree house out back? No one could stop her. We just need to keep in mind that some things just aren’t meant to be.”

  “I really wanted it to work.” Jane sighed. “I mean, why wouldn’t I? I loved Justin, but he just became so—so impossible.”

  “Well, all men can be difficult from time to time,” injected Aunt Ethel. “Even my dear Bob, God bless his soul, could make me madder than a wet hen occasionally.”

  “But this was different.” Jane put down her fork and looked at them with a surprising intensity. “When my cooking career started to take off, Justin completely changed. It was really weird—almost like Jekyll and Hyde. He simply couldn’t handle my success.”

  Louise nodded. “Jealousy. That can happen when a couple shares the same vocation. Goodness, I remember a few times when Eliot resented me, like the first time I was invited to be a judge for the university’s annual music competition. Why, it was such an honor for me! But poor Eliot felt he should’ve been asked. His nose was out of joint for a week. But then these little disputes have ways of sorting themselves out over time.”

  “Maybe for you, Louise,” said Jane. “It’s not always that easy for everyone.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” said Aunt Ethel. “I tend to agree with Louise. I think young people are much too quick to give up on things these days. Why, I remember back when—”

  “Excuse me,” interrupted Jane. “I am very tired from my trip. I hope you don’t mind if I turn in early tonight.”

  “Of course not,” said Alice. “You look like you’re due for some rest. Sleep as late as you like. Just take it easy.”

  After Jane left, Alice excused herself and began picking up the dinner dishes while Louise and Aunt Ethel continued discussing how the younger generation dealt with their problems nowadays.

  Finally, when the kitchen was clean, Alice excused herself too. “It’s been a long day,” she said to the two older women now seated comfortably in the living room, still catching up on Acorn Hill’s latest, although it looked like Louise was quickly wearying of her aunt’s nearly nonstop chatter.

  “Yes, dear,” said Louise. “I won’t be far behind you. I still believe in the ‘early to bed, early to rise’ adage—even more so the older I get.”

  Alice could see a ribbon of light under Jane’s bedroom door as she walked down the hallway. Hesitating for a moment, she decided to tap.

  “Yes?”

  “I just wanted to say good night, Jane.”

  The door opened slightly and Jane’s pale face peered out. “Good night, Alice.”

  “I hope you won’t let anything Louise or Aunt Ethel said tonight get to you.”

  Jane smiled ever so slightly and opened the door wider. “Want to come in?”

  “Sure, if you’re not going to bed right now.”

  “I just used that as an excuse to vacate. I didn’t want to say anything I’d regret.”

  Alice smiled now. “Yes, I know the feeling. I don’t really think that Louise means to sound so bossy, but I suppose Aunt Ethel gets her going.”

  “All that talk about not trying hard enough with Justin really hurts.” Jane flopped down on her bed and leaned back against the aqua blue chenille pillows that Alice had made for her nearly four decades ago. Alice had spent most of a summer day measuring, cutting, and sewing the covers from an old bedspread that had once belonged to their mother.

  Alice sat down in the rocking chair next to the bed and nodded. “She shouldn’t have said that, Jane. I’m sure you gave it all you had.”

  “I really did. I begged him to go to counseling. He wouldn’t. I went, but it didn’t change things. You see, Alice, he walked out on me.”

  Jane quickly brushed away the tear that had slipped down her cheek. “I never planned on telling the family all the details of m
y failed marriage, Alice. I’m not even sure why. Maybe I was just embarrassed. Justin was so jealous of me that he actually began sabotaging my career. At first I thought I was imagining it, and then it became plain that he was trying to ruin me, not to mention my reputation. It took several good friends confronting me with the truth before I even really accepted it. Justin has what you’d call a passive-aggressive personality.”

  Alice nodded. “Seems pretty easygoing, but it’s just a cover-up.”

  “A cover-up that they use to control you. They act like they don’t care about a situation, then when you’re not expecting it they pull the rug out from under you.”

  Alice shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Jane. I wish that you had called me and talked about this. I mean if it would’ve helped.”

  “I almost called you a number of times, Alice. But I knew you’d have to tell Father. I didn’t want to disappoint him. I so badly wanted to be the grownup and handle my own problems. You know how I’ve always felt like the baby in this family. As if no matter what I did I would never be quite equal to the grownups.” She shook her head. “Good grief, here I am a fifty-year-old woman and I still feel like a complete child sometimes.”

  Alice smiled. “That’s not so bad. Do you remember how Jesus said we should all become like children?”

  Jane seemed to consider this. “Well, I suppose I’ve got a head start on that one.”

  “I have a feeling we could all learn a lot from you.”

  Jane sighed. “I don’t see how.”

  “Perhaps that’s the beauty in it.”

  Jane got up from the bed and put her arms around Alice. “I love you, Alice. You’ve always been so kind and understanding. You make me really glad to be home again.”

  “And I’m so glad that you’re here,” said Alice. She glanced around the room. “As I told Louise, I’m sorry I couldn’t clean up in here more—”

  “Oh, Alice!” Jane shook her head. “No apologies. You made yourself way too much of a slave for us already. I insist that I help out in the kitchen while I’m here—if you don’t mind, that is.”

  “Mind? Are you kidding? You know what kind of a cook I am. But I don’t want you feeling like you have to—”

  “That’s not it. I want to. I feel completely lost without a kitchen floor under my feet. I promise that I’ll try not to take over.”

  Alice waved her hand. “Feel free to take over.”

  Jane smiled. “So, tell me, how’s your job going?”

  Alice felt mildly surprised. Father was the only one in the family who had ever inquired about her work before, but then Jane had always been a lot like Father. “It’s been going pretty well. I’m head nurse on my shift now and I really like my crew. I can’t imagine what I’d do without my job. Naturally, I felt caught off guard yesterday, with the phone call about Father and all. I guess I sort of lost it emotionally. But my administrator was so sweet about it. He insisted I take two weeks off.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “I guess so, although I’m not sure what I’ll do to stay busy for that long. But then you and Louise are here, and I’m sure we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Well, you really do look tired, Jane. I think I should let you get some rest.”

  “Thanks for coming in to talk.”

  “Thanks for letting me.”

  Alice slipped back out into the hallway, then up the stairs to her own room on the third floor. Alice had opted for a room there when she’d moved back home. For one thing, it had a perfect view of the chapel, but also it made her feel more independent to have the whole floor to herself.

  She quietly closed the door behind her and considered her conversation with Jane. It was reassuring to hear her sister’s explanation for not coming to visit more often. And now that she thought about it, it did make perfect sense. Still she wondered why Jane hadn’t spoken more of their father or even his death. Perhaps Jane simply accepted that he was old and it was his time to go. The pain of losing Father still felt fresh to Alice. But then she reminded herself for the umpteenth time that death was simply a natural part of life. Everyone had to die at some point in time—after all, it was the only way they could begin their eternal lives.

  Alice turned on the light on her bureau and looked around her cheerful room. It seemed to welcome her. Until yesterday, she had almost forgotten how the Howard girls’ original bedrooms on the second floor were still trapped in some kind of a time warp. Louise’s room, with its pink ruffled canopy bed, was straight out of the fifties, whereas Jane’s looked like a slice of the sixties with its mod style of paisley and daisies and wild neon colors. Since neither sister had ever lived at home after college, it was only natural that their rooms would remain the same. Father, always busy with chapel responsibilities, had certainly seen no reason to change anything. Alice felt a bit guilty that she hadn’t done anything herself. But then her life, like Father’s, was usually busy too. She hoped that her sisters wouldn’t mind. Perhaps they’d even enjoy taking the trip down memory lane again.

  When Alice had decided to switch rooms, she’d also taken the time to create a space that made her feel comfortable. She had painted the walls a nice buttery yellow, inspired by the old patchwork quilt she’d found in a trunk in the attic. It had been in perfect condition. Father had said it had been made by Alice’s maternal grandmother as a wedding gift for him and his wife nearly seventy years ago, but he assured Alice that she was more than welcome to it, that the colors had always been a bit too feminine for his taste. Alice loved the quilt and felt that it provided a connection to her mother and the Berry side of the family, and she thought the soft pastel hues of yellow, green, and violet were perfectly lovely. She’d even braided a cotton area rug with colors that matched the quilt. It had taken the better part of one winter to complete it. Father had called it her rainbow project since the arcs of yellow, lavender and green really did resemble a rainbow.

  “I love you, Father,” she whispered quietly. “If you can hear me, just know that I really do love you. I should’ve told you that more often than I did. I hope you knew. And I know that you loved me. I hope you’re happy in heaven. But I sure do miss you.”

  Chapter Five

  I’m guessing that’s about the biggest funeral service this town has ever seen,” commented Fred Humbert as he helped himself to another piece of Martha Bevins’s applesauce cake, the recipe that had won her a blue ribbon at the county fair nearly twenty years ago.

  “I really appreciated what you said about Father, Fred.” Alice poured another pitcher of fruit punch into the nearly empty bowl. “I’m sure Father would’ve liked it too.”

  “Just the plain and simple truth,” said Fred.

  “That’s right,” agreed his wife Vera. “Daniel Howard had a big hand in making this town what it is today. There’s no disputing that.”

  “You’ve got that right,” said Lloyd Tynan as he glanced around the crowded chapel basement. “And you’ve got all these good people to attest to the fact.” He lowered his voice a bit. “I just hope the fire marshal’s not doing a head count right now. We’d be shut down in an instant.”

  “Fortunately quite a few people have already left,” said Aunt Ethel. “And with luck the rest will clear out before we run completely out of food.”

  “Oh, Aunt Ethel,” scolded Louise.

  Lloyd leaned over toward Louise. “That piece you played at the end of the service was magnificent, Louise.”

  Louise straightened her pearls and smiled. “Why, thank you, Lloyd.”

  Aunt Ethel bristled slightly. “Did you know that Louise teaches music in Philadelphia, Lloyd?” She glanced at her eldest niece. “I expect you’ll need to be getting back to your students before too long.”

  Louise glanced around the warm and noisy room and smiled. The Gardner twins were playing a game of tag around the tables, and old Mrs. Avery was loudly retelling an incident that had occurred at a church picnic
nearly fifty years ago. “Goodness me,” Louise sighed. “I’ve hardly even thought about going back to the city. It’s just so good to be back home again. Who knows, maybe I’ll decide to stick around.”

  Aunt Ethel blinked. “Really?”

  “Are you serious?” asked Alice hopefully. “You’d think about moving back here?”

  Louise nodded. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about it for some time now … ever since Eliot passed on. With Cynthia living away from home now … well, sometimes I feel like a ship without an anchor.”

  “Cynthia?” asked Lloyd. “Is that your daughter?”

  “Yes, my only child. Poor Cynthia couldn’t make the funeral. She flew on business to Frankfurt, Germany, the morning Father died and just couldn’t come right back home. I’m sure my father would understand perfectly.”

  Lloyd nodded. “I’m sure he would, Louise. So, tell me, are you really considering moving back here?”

  Louise sighed. “There’s no real reason for me to stay in Philadelphia.”

  Aunt Ethel seemed concerned. “But really, Louise, wouldn’t you find Acorn Hill to be a little … well, small potatoes … compared to an important bustling place like Philadelphia?”

  Louise smiled. “Sometimes small potatoes are the tastiest.”

  “What’s this about potatoes?” asked Jane as she joined them.

  Alice laughed. “Actually it was a metaphor. Louise is considering moving back home to Acorn Hill.”

  Jane turned to her oldest sister. “Really?”

  “Oh, I haven’t made up my mind yet. I must admit that I am certainly enjoying the slower pace of a small town. The people seem so friendly, and, well, it just feels like home to me.”

  “That’s because it is,” said Alice. “Father would be so pleased to hear you say that.”

  “I think he’d be pleased with the way that you organized this memorial service today, Alice,” said Jane. “It was so touching the way everyone got up and shared a personal memory about him.”

  “I can’t take all the credit,” said Alice. “It was something Pastor Ley and I worked out together.”