A Work in Progress

 “Rusty, leave those alone, we’re delivering them after lunch.” Annabelle had expected her brother to try to sneak some cookies. So. She outwitted him. She found an old Santa Claus tin and packed them with 11 cookies. Saving him cookies was nice, but she didn’t want him to have a whole dozen! That was the meanest Annabelle would let herself get at Christmas ~ almost. She didn’t believe in Santa anymore but she still feared the Naughty list.

“Where are we delivering them, Annie?” He knew that she hated it when anyone called her Annie, especially her brother. “I told you. We’re taking them to the Seniors residence by the Mall. I baked two dozen, Molly baked two dozen, Samantha baked………..”  

Rusty had a mouth full of cereal and just about choked on it. He swallowed hard and grumbled “I suppose you’re going to tell me every name in your Guide group. Why not just say you all baked two dozen cookies each?” Annabelle just rolled her eyes. “And what are those on the table?”

“I just haven’t packed them up yet. Why do you have to ask so many questions? And are you supposed to be helping out old Mr. Sampson today?” Rusty leapt out of his chair. “Yes! I’m late! He probably won’t pay me and make me work twice as hard.” With that he was gone, leaving his sister to her cookies. He’d almost forgotten about swiping a couple of them, but he could sneak back before lunch and see if he could get one.

Rusty and Annabelle picked at each other almost all the time. But when no one was looking, Rusty helped out his sister, and Annabelle did the same for him. Rusty had built a jewelry box for his sister for Christmas. It was a secret, except for his dad, because he had to use his dad’s workbench. 

Their parents had listened to the bickering and watched their children try to not like each other. Breaking up a serious argument occurred now and then was all that was necessary. They set the limits for the kids, tried to be good role models for them and after that it was the long process of letting go of how their children developed. Cookies or no cookies.

“Sisterhood and brotherhood is a condition people have to work at.”

~ Maya Angelou

Chapter Two, Episode 162 - Ben and Abby - Situationally Theirs

“I don’t have any ideas, mom!” Ben Richardson, Martha’s grandson was poring over the brochures he brought home from the Junior Career Day. “This is dumb. Everyone’s always asking me what I’m going to do when I get out of high school and I don’t start high school til next year, anyway. Then it’s four years. Why do I need to figure this out now?” He pushed then all aside, scraped his chair back from the table. “Is supper ready yet? I’m hungry. Where’s Abby?” 

His mom, Joanie Richardson, at the stove, just smiled. “I didn’t set it up, honey. They have that every year at the school and I suppose it’s just to give all of you some things to think about. No one is telling you to make any decisions now. Just put the brochures away in your desk and if you want to contact any of them you’ll have their phone numbers.”

“I guess I could look them up if they’ve got websites. Like police or the ambulance people.” Joanie grimaced. She was hoping he’d do something safer, but wouldn’t start giving him her own doubts. “Or maybe I’ll be a gardener or a butler. Then I wouldn’t have to leave home ~ I could stay here with you!!”

Laughing out loud, she said “Ben, you would have to leave home and you’d also have to apply for a job here. Just because your grandmother is the housekeeper and does all the hiring doesn’t mean you’d be a shoo in for the job. And Digby would have to approve your application as well.”

With a moan he said “I’ll set the table. Where is Abby? It’s her night to set the table. Now she’ll have to wash all the dishes. Why would I have to leave home?”

“Didn’t you know that Samuel has his degree in Agriculture and Digby went away for schooling as well. I don’t know where he went, but right now he’s away at a conference for his profession.”

“Well, I don’t really like school and it’s getting harder. More homework. I never like getting all dirty like Samuel and if I had to go to school that would be really weird.”

Hearing the front door, Ben called out to his sister. “Is that you Abby? You have to wash dishes tonight because I set the table. You weren’t here to do your job.”

“Ben, the older you get the bossier you get. You used to be a really good brother, but you must have bonked your head on something. I don’t care if I do the dishes tonight. You don’t do a good job of it anyway.” She hung her coat up and put her books on the front hall table. “Mom how can you stand him!”

Joanie just smiled at her unruly children. “You two stop bickering. Supper's ready. Abby, wash your hands before you come to the table. How was your piano lesson?  Are you still liking piano? If you and Ben can ever get along you’ll be able to play together. Piano and guitar are beautiful together.”

“I don’t know, mom. If he doesn’t stop being mean to me I don’t know if I want to even talk to him.” She sat down and helped herself to the salad. 

“Is that all you’re going to eat, Abby dear?” Her mother was worried about her daughter. She never seemed to want to eat anything but salads. “Oh all right, mom.” She took a teaspoon of potatoes, a small piece meatloaf. But pushed them aside. Ben, on the other hand, made up for his sister. He loaded his plate with potatoes and meatloaf, and one leaf of lettuce, poured gravy over it all and dug in. “Yes, mom I do like piano. Mr. Reynolds lets me stay after school so Mrs. Olsen can give me my lessons on his gorgeous piano. Do you think we can get a piano here?”

“I don’t know honey. But until we do, you may be able to practice on Miss Emelina’s piano. But only if your grandma is there and Miss Emelina says it’s ok.”

The rest of their meal was silent. Joanie was always amazed when the bickering slowed down when their stomachs were full. Dessert, a staple in the Richardson’s household, was one of Cook’s apple pies. Abby’s diet of raw foods didn’t extend to her Auntie Cook’s pies. “Just a sliver, please mom. I’ll do more exercise tomorrow.” Joanie couldn’t help herself. “Abby you’re only 9 years old! Please be careful with what you’re doing.” 

“I will, mom. I am. I just don’t want to get fat. The girls at school, at least some to them, are always worried about getting ugly.”

Ben had heard enough. He scraped up the last of his pie, put his dishes in the sink and disappeared to his room. “Homework.” 

“Abby, listen to everyone. Not just the popular girls. That’s it, isn’t it? The popular girls aren’t really all that popular to everyone. What I do want you to do is find out what your own body needs to be healthy.” Joanie remembered when Abby had been working with Miss Dez in the summer in the orchard and with the bees. “Remember this summer? The apple trees need certain nutrition, the bees need a different kind of nutrition. We’re no different. You like to study. Study the human body, especially for children. Then make your own decision about what your body needs.”

Abby didn’t look convinced of anything other than the worried look on her mother’s face. “Ok, mom, but until I find out differently, I’ll keep being careful what I eat.” She hugged her mother. “I’m all right, mom.” She cleared the table, washed and put away the supper things. The conversation was over. For that night.

“The good news is that your child has a natural desire to do well. 

Our job as parent is to bring out this quality and cherish it 

until the day your kids leave home, and then some.”

~ Marlene Targ Brill, author

Book Review: I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou

Writing this review is rather like trying to put together a puzzle. But I can’t find the corner pieces, or the nice neat pieces that go around the edge of the picture. To envision the eight year old child, Marguerite, speechless after her rape and the Maya Angelou, 86 years old at her death in 2014 an articulate, wise and honoured woman there seems to be no one ‘picture’. In graphic detail, her experiences, both emotionally and physically are displayed in a voice that really seems very kind. As a young child, and then as an adolescent that kindness still had to develop. With each of her experiences, from the abuse at eight, to the brutal travel to Mexico with her father, the overt or hidden racism that every black person of any age has to deal with, Maya Angelou has not only stepped out of the cage that society had forced her into, but developed a strong and wise voice in story and poetry. Each time she survived an attack on her being, whether physically or emotionally, she learned the lessons of resilience. She had the benefit of having strong, loving female relationships ~ her grandmother (Momma) in Stamps, Arkansas ~ staunchly religious and owner of the local general store, her mother, Vivian Baxter (Mother Dearest), independent and fun loving, in San Francisco as well as Mrs. Bertha Flowers, a local teacher in Stamps who helped little Maya regain her voice after several years of silence. Her other stalwart was her brother Bailey, who was her confidant, until he was at the grand old age of sixteen.

At fifteen, Maya went against rigid societal norms in San Francisco and became the first black female street car conductor. She questioned her sexuality after reading The Well of Loneliness, a lesbian novel (1928) and realizing that she was tall, deep voiced and not as developed as her friends. Another societal norm to puzzle about until learning she was pregnant. All in all, Maya Angelou, climbed through, over or around what life had to throw at her. Fear, anger, wonder, curiosity, and determination bolstered her all along the way.

“She comprehended the perversity of life, that in the struggle lies the joy.”

~ Maya Angelou,  I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

Title: I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

Author: Maya Angelou

Copyright: 1969
Copyright renewed: 1997 by Maya Angelou

Forward Copyright: 2015 by Oprah Winfrey

Publisher: Ballantine Books, an imprint of Random House, a division of Random House LLC, a Penguin Random House company of New York

Type: Autobiography

Format: Paperback

ISBN: 978-0-345-51440-0

ebook ISBN: 978-1-5883-6925-3

Chapter Two, Episode 106 - A Day Trip to Beacon Hill Children’s Farm - Situationally Theirs

Both Photos at Beacon Hill Children's Farm

A Day Trip to 

Beacon Hill Children’s Farm

The Beaufort Estate seemed a quiet place. Yet, despite the pandemic, there had been two marriages, and a couple of relationships established. Only Giles, the chauffeur had seen it all happening. But there were at least two more. Abby Richardson, going on seven years old and her brother Ben, almost 12 years old. Where there are children, there are big ears. Abby and Ben, with their mother Joanie, lived a short way from the Estate manor. On Mondays and Wednesdays, they came to see Cook and their Grandma after school. “Mom has to stay late, again.” Abby, blond and blue eyed, would rather her mother came home. She was still needing her mom. But when she was told she could go to see her Grandma and Cook, she wasn’t so disappointed. Ben was boring. He’d grab a handful of cookies and do his homework. Abby would try to do her reading homework, but she would rather listen to the two older women. They talked about the parties Mrs. Crawford used to have when she was Mrs. Beaufort. She heard about how things changed with the pandemic. The stories about Miss Dez and her new boyfriend. Cook never said anything about Mr. Forrester, but Abby had seen them together.  

On the bus after school one day, she and her best friend, Laurie sat together as they always did. Abby always told her friend things about the Estate where her Grandma worked. Today it was about Cook and Mr. Forrester. “I may only be seven years old in two weeks, but I think they’re in love! Can you imagine! Two old people falling in love!” Her friend gasped “Really! In love! How can you tell?!” Abby giggled and whispered “I saw them kissing one time. And another time they were holding hands.”

Laurie looked puzzled “Did you think that when your Grandma married Mr. Digby? That it was kind of gross?” Abby got quiet. “That was different. Mr. Digby ~ I call him Papa James now ~  never said anything to Grandma for years and years ~ that’s what Grandma told Mom one day when they were talking ~ and then he just asked her to marry him. They weren’t secret about it like Cook and Mr. Forrester.”

As sudden as a gust of wind, their conversation changed. Laurie said “We’re going to my Grandma and Grandpa’s up island this weekend. We have to take a ferry to get to the island they live on. They have a boat so we’ll go fishing. Fishing is kind of boring. What are you doing?” Abby wanted to keep it a secret til school on Monday, but Laurie asked and she didn’t want to tell a lie so she told. “Grandma and Papa James are taking me and Ben to the Children’s farm in Victoria. We’ve only been there once before but that was before the pandemic and I was really little. That’s when Ben was still nice to me. Now that he’s almost a teenager, he just gets mad when Mom wants him to take care of me……..Like I need taking care of like I was a baby.”

The bus stopped at Laurie’s home. “Bye! See you on Monday. Message you from my computer this weekend…. If I’m allowed.” The bus driver frowned at her. “Get on home, young lady. I need to get the rest home before supper.” Laurie waved, shouldered her back pack and left the bus. Waving from her sidewalk, she turned and ran home.

~~~~~

“When are we going to get there, Grandma?”

Martha looked at James. He was grinning almost impishly, uncharacteristic for serious James Digby. “Have you kept count of how many times we heard that since we left?” Patient Martha was losing her calm with her granddaughter. Ben was drawing and had no time for his little sister.  “Abby, dear, we’ll be at the Children’s Farm in about ten minutes. Save your questions for the Farm, dear. Do you have your coins still in your pocket for the donation slot?”

Martha had given both her grandchildren loonies and toonies before leaving the Estate. She and her husband had decided on this day trip for the children to Victoria. Since school had started on the Island, she had seen little of the children. Their mother, Joanie, had at least a weekend’s work to catch up on. A teacher’s lot. The children were more than happy to get away from Hartley. Seeing their friends after their summer off and after the pandemic restrictions were altered, had been exciting. Chatterbox Abby, now almost seven, told everyone in the car about her new teacher, how many friends she had, her best friend Laurie was just the greatest, which boy she thought was the cutest and what her favourite class might be. Ben could have cared less. She was just an embarrassment at school. A quiet boy, he just wanted to learn what he could, get his homework done and to high school as soon as possible. His 12th birthday coming up, and only in his room, he was practicing being ‘cool’. Part of being cool was ignoring a little sister.

~~~~~

And there were many questions when they got to the farm. Ben just wandered on his own under the trees. He seemed especially interested in the pigs. He asked the farm workers about them, how old they were, what food they liked and did they stay on the farm all winter. Very studiously he asked “Do you think I could have one? We have a back yard. I’ve heard of pet pigs.” The farm worker talking with him said he’d have to ask his mother and do some research. “Find out if your backyard would be enough for a pet pig.” 

Abby loved the goats. “They’re called ‘kids’, dear.” But Abby didn’t hear. She had already found the brushes and was sitting on a stump brushing whatever goat came up to her. She had questions about all of the other animals - why do the chickens have such beautiful feathers, why are the llamas so tall, why do the sheep have been clumps of wool gone. But when it came to the little goats, she was quiet and very loving. 

~~~~~

“They’re both asleep, James. We’ve had a good day.” Martha continued in a whisper. “It does look like Ben is trying to stay awake - after all he is almost a teenager.” They smiled at each other and fell silent. Any more chatter and questions could wait for another day.

“When we are children we seldom think of the future. 

This innocence leaves us free to enjoy ourselves as few adults can. 

The day we fret about the future is the day we leave our childhood behind.”

~ Patrick Rothfuss,  The Name of the Wind

Chapter Two, Episode Eighty-Five - Old Growth - Situationally Theirs

Old Growth

“It’s not very pretty, is it Miss? Just an old weed hanging on to that old wall.” Samuel had come to the corner where the old garage had been. There was still a piece of the far corner of the garage that missed the back hoe. He had planned to knock the rest of it down and clean up the yard today. Sun was shining, he didn’t have any planting to do. It was a good day for such an odd job.

“I don’t know, Samuel. Maybe not right now, but if it was in a proper garden. I kind of like it’s little flowers, and their bright red.” Dez had heard Samuel and his wheelbarrow coming so wasn’t surprised to hear his voice. On her sister’s Estate, this was his territory. He didn’t own it, but had worked it for longer than Emelina had lived at Beaufort.

“You want to help me knock down the last of this old place, Miss Dez. After all it was you and I started taking the poor old thing down.” He hefted his sledgehammer from the wheelbarrow, then handed Dez a shovel. “I’ll knock it down and you can clean up after me.”

“Can we save that ‘weed’? Seems a shame that it just get pulled up and tossed away…. Oops, I better get out of the way!” Dez jumped back just as Samuel picked up the sledgehammer into a swing. Samuel let the big heavy hammer drop and laughed. “Miss Dez, I’d never hurt you or anyone! You just looked so serious about that weed. Go on, pull it out. Those roots go so deep that it will probably pop up somewhere else before long.”

Dez breathed a sigh of relief, then she laughed. “Of course you wouldn’t, Samuel.” For the rest of the afternoon, the two friends cleaned up what was left of the old garage. Dez did pull out the plant and put it gently aside. She was going to find out whether it was a weed or something ornamental. 

~~~~~

“Do you think Martha and James will be back soon, Cook?” Emelina was at the kitchen table with a stack of paperwork. Sitting down with a sigh, she had opened her briefcase and pulled out the stack clipped together with a turquoise bull clip. Quietly she shuffled through them until she sat back and sighed. “Here, Miss Em. Have some tea. James would tell you that all those bills, or whatever they are, will be dealt with as soon as he’s back in his office. He’ll be glad you’ve kept the place running so well while his brother was here.” 

“You’re right, Cook.” Stacking up the bills again, she returned them to her briefcase. “Thank you for the tea, Cook. And for reminding me to just be patient.” She paused and took a sip of tea. “When was the last time James had a vacation? I know Martha took regular vacations, or weekends away before she and James got married. But James has always been so quiet and was always in his office without fail.”

Cook thought a minute. Drank a bit more tea. “You know, I can’t remember a time when he left the Estate. Maybe on his regular weekends off he might have gone fishing from time to time. I only know that because he’d come whistling into the kitchen and hand me a cleaned fish or two.” She laughed. “Or I’d come in on a Monday morning and there’d be a note on the tea kettle ‘Fish in the freezer. Enjoy them.”

“All those years I was away.” Emelina held her cooling mug in both hands, elbows on the table. Elizabeth looked puzzled. “Away? You haven’t gone anywhere since Mr. Michael. Then after Dr. Jeremy came back into your life.” Setting her mug on the table and filling it with warmer tea, Emelina said. “Away in my grief, Cook. Those days are just a blur. If I hadn’t been for Brigitte, I don’t know what I would have done. You kept me fed ~ when I’d eat. Martha made sure the place kept running - and James. You all could have just left me when Michael died and you didn’t. Anyway, I just realized how little I know James ~ or any of you.”

For the next couple of hours, Elizabeth and Emelina sat and talked. Elizabeth talked about her family in England, the letters she and Lily would exchange, her early days before even coming to the Beaufort Estate. She told her about Martha and how the two of them started at the same time, Martha’s daughter and grandchildren. She didn’t say much about Samuel, except to say how pleased she was to get such good produce. She talked about James, but realized that, until he and Martha had married she didn’t know that much about him either. “I’ve learned more about James since his brother was here. I suppose I never saw him as a boy riding bikes with his friends.”

~~~~~

Martha and James were almost home. “Should we stop in to see Elizabeth before going home, James?” She stifled a yawn. James glanced at her quickly, before turning his eyes back on the road. “But you’re tired, dear. Shouldn’t we just see Elizabeth in the morning?” He was looking forward to getting home in the quiet of their little cottage. “The lights are still on in the kitchen. We could just stop to let her know we’re back safely then drive on home. I do want to thank her for all the good food this past week. I’m glad we all went out for dinner ~ you did pay for her dinners didn’t you?”

“Yes I made sure to pay for everyone. Thom insisted on paying for everyone at that Steakhouse we went to on their last day.” He pulled up behind the kitchen door. “We’ll just go in for a minute, Martha. Come.” He came around to her side and opened her door, helping her out. “Oh, James, you are such a butler.” Martha smiled at him and kissed him on the cheek.

“You’re back!” Dez and Samuel had put away their tools, having finished clearing away the remains of the old garage. “Come on up to the house with me, Samuel. The lights are on up there and I’ll bet we can get a cup of tea out of Cook. Do you need to feed Bentley yet?” He looked over at his shack and shook his head. “No, she’ll be all right. A cup of tea sounds just right.”

~~~~~

The late afternoon went into evening. Cook made more tea and pulled out a cold supper while Dez set the table. Emelina pushed aside her briefcase, vowing to leave business until the next day. James insisted that he would be happy to review them right then, so she just set the briefcase on the floor under the table. Early evening went into dark. Food and plates were cleared away. Martha’s yawns became more obvious. James spoke up. “Miss Emelina, I want to thank you for giving me this last week off. Seeing my brother again was a such a very great gift.” He stood and shook her hand. “I must get my dear wife home. We’re both ready to be home and to bed.” He looked around at his companions. His words almost caught in his throat. “You all are my family and we are grateful to have you.” 

The kitchen was silent. Samuel cleared his throat. “Time for me to be gettin’ back to Bentley. She’s not had her supper yet.” He got up to leave. “Elizabeth, I’ll walk you home. You leave the dishes, they’ll still be here in the morning.”

“We’ll take care of them, Cook. You go with Samuel.” Emelina walked with her employees to the back door. “We had a good week, didn’t we.”

“Everyone wants to live on top of the mountain, but all the 

happiness and growth occurs while you’re climbing it.”

~ Andy Rooney

Chapter Two, Episode Eighty-Two - Together - Situationally Theirs

 Together

“We’ve had a lovely afternoon, Sonja! You seem more relaxed than in the past few days.” Martha and Sonja had returned to the Digby cottage from their tour of Martha’s tiny backyard. Light rain had begun falling. Martha made them tea while Sonja got out teacups. She felt she had to handle them carefully. The last time she had seen china teacups and saucers was at Neighbourhood Antiques at home. The little mountain town of Innocence was pottery mugs or disposable cups at the coffee shops. She smiled at the differences of their lives. 

“Yes, I am more relaxed. Just walking with you and talking about your camelias and daffodils took my mind off my worries if only for a while.” Sonja set the cups on the table. While the tea was steeping, Martha got out one of James’ old photo albums. “I haven’t seen one of those for a long time! I put all my photos on my computer and destroyed the hard copies.” She opened the first one and saw three young boys astride bicycles, big grins on their faces, hair disheveled in a wind. She sat down and saw Thom, James and Samuel grow up. School recitals, graduations, dances and Christmas and Easters. And then Thom was on a ferry to leave for the mainland. She touched the face of the then young man who would become her life partner. He was a good man, a nice man with only one mark on his past. When they first were dating, after both of them had had relationships, he told her of that one mark. They hadn’t spoken of it since, and as she grew to know him, she knew without a doubt that what he told her was true. He had been innocent of the dreadful crime.  

“Penny for your thoughts? You’ve drifted away, Sonja. Here’s your tea and a biscuit.” Martha had been watching Sonja page through the album, her expressions changing with each photo. A smile, a laugh and wondering looks especially when she saw a young Thom on the ferry. Sonja looked up. “Thank you, Martha. I’ve known Thom a long time now and could never imagine him as a boy.” She took a sip of her tea. “Mmmmmm, so good. ~  or what Thom's life must have been like before he came to the mainland. He looked so happy. I wonder…..oh, I suppose it was a young man’s wanderlust. Was James ever like that?”

“No. He was totally dedicated to being the Estate Butler, just like their father. He did go off to University for a time, but only to Hartley. At least I think that is about all he did. We’ve worked together since shortly after he took over from his father and have really never talked about his previous life much. Look at that one….the one with Samuel and James. Samuel was as dedicated about taking over the ‘yardman job’ from his father as James was about being the Estate butler. Elizabeth and I came to the Estate later on. Elizabeth from who knows where and I was already married and had a family. But I m going on. Elizabeth will probably be waiting supper for us. I hope the boys are paying attention to the time today. They’ve been late every day this week.”

Gathering their jackets and umbrellas, they set off walking, still talking about their now not so young men in the old pictures. 

~~~~~

“Look, James. There they are. I suppose we should have had umbrellas too, but then our women are more sensible than we are.” Thom was finally laughing. Their conversation had been far too serious. Long ago crime - that wasn’t a crime - and punishment lasting years longer than any prison sentence. Thom had carried a heavy burden of shame for even getting into that proverbial wrong crowd, the prison sentence and the secrecy with his family. He waved and called to Martha and Sonja. “We’ll beat you to the back porch, girls! First one inside gets to pick the best seat at the table. Come on, James.” He pulled his brother by the arm and they set out at a trot. The girls just looked at each other, shrugged and arm in arm they picked up their pace but let the boys win. Martha knew there was no best seat at the table - unless it was the one closest to the food. 

~~~~~~

Out of breath, the men staggered up the steps. Thom got to the door first leaving his brother panting and hanging onto the roof support. “Oh, come on, James. Your supper will get cold.” Martha and Sonja, folding up their umbrellas, walked right past him and followed Thom into the warm kitchen. James took a deep breath, stood up, patted the roof support and regained his dignity. “I’m right behind you ladies. I just didn’t want to be rude and push past you. Not like my kid brother.”

“Well, look at this bunch, Elizabeth. Men lookin’ like somethin’ the cat dragged in and the women all neat and tidy. D’you suppose they want supper? You didn’t make enough for all six of us?” Samuel was amused. He and Elizabeth had had a good visit while the others had been out. Cooking, gardening, vegetables, fruits and all the good food that came from it. Anyone listening would have been quite bored by it all, but to them it was their lives. From deep in the soil to the table. Elizabeth Saunders and Samuel Forrester were quite a team. Some would think that it went just a bit deeper than teammates, but both parties would blush and deny it and then say they were incapable of blushing!

“Oh, hush Samuel. Here, take this chicken to the table and carve it up. James, here, put these on the table.” She handed him a bowl heaped with soft fluffy potatoes and a gravy boat filled with steaming gravy. It was a bit of a balance, but he managed to get them both to the table safely. The others had lined up for their tasks. Martha - curried carrots, Thom - a bowl of bread stuffing with nuts, onion, apples and celery, Sonja - a green salad with tomatoes and cucumbers. “That’s about it. Everything else is on the table and there’ll be no apple pie until you’ve all cleaned up your plates.” Elizabeth took off her apron, picked up the teapot and her mug of tea and came to the table. “Let’s eat."

Conversation from the direction of the stairs stalled the conversation at the table. They all turned just as two more people came into the kitchen. “Cook, Dr. Jeremy is home and hungry. My sister is on her way out……….Oh! You’re just sitting down to supper!” Emelina stopped and looked at her husband. “I’m sorry, I thought you would be done. I knew you were all here, but…….” James pushed his chair back and stood, suddenly professional. “It’s quite all right, Miss Emelina. Dr. Crawford, it’s good to see you. We’ll just get two more settings and you can join us. Unless you’d rather have the privacy of the dining room upstairs.” He was already at the cupboard getting out plates and cutlery. Cook and Martha looked over the meal and decided that there was enough to share, and nodded to each other. “It will be wonderful if you’d join us. And you men, leave enough for Miss Dez. I don’t want to have to shame the four of you.” Elizabeth smiled at them like they were little boys. “Dr. Jeremy that means you too!” Just to be on the safe side, Martha filled a plate for Miss Dez, covered it with tinfoil and set it in the still warm oven.

After introductions to Dr. Jeremy, Thom and Sonja, the room fell silent. Only the click of knives and forks on plates and the occasional request to pass something more could be heard.

“The world can fall to pieces around us, but 

in the end, we’ll always make it back to us.”

Cassia Leo, The Way We Fall

Chapter Two, Episode Eighty-One - Put Away - Situationally Theirs

Put Away

The three men sat around Samuel’s kitchen table. “I couldn’t come home, James. Then the years passed.” Thom stood and walked to the front window, staring out at the rain. “You know I forgot how rainy the early springs can be. Sometimes I miss the cloud, but the mountains let me breathe. When I look up into pines cascading down the mountains, I just feel….well, I feel, at home it that makes sense. This is my home.” Thom just kept watching the rain.

“Why, Thom? Why couldn’t you come home?”

Samuel just kept quiet. He knew the brothers needed his silence. He had guessed there was something that was not being said. It had been almost a week since Thom and Sonja had arrived. The three of them had examined every corner of the estate, places that they thought their parents didn’t know about ~ hiding places for cigarettes or beer. Every now and then, Thom would grow silent and just as suddenly, he’d smile and pull up an old story. He would never talk about the first years after he left. Tonight was different. Samuel’s pipe had grown cold, but he didn’t want to move.

“I was in prison, James.”

Silence thickened. “I’ll be going outside. My pipe’s gone out and I’ll keep the smoke out there. May go up to the kitchen to see if Elizabeth has those scones ready to eat yet.” Samuel picked up his slicker, put his pipe in an inside pocket and left the two men alone.

~~~~~

“What are you doing here, Samuel? Where’s Thom and James? The wives have gone off over to Digby’s cottage. Sonja wanted a walk and Martha wanted to show off her back yard.” Elizabeth had just removed the scones from the oven and was setting them gently on a plate to cool. “I need to leave the two of them alone for a bit. Thom dropped a bomb shell on James. Something about prison. I maybe shouldn’t have said anything.” He put his still unlit pipe in his shirt pocket.  “Now, let’s you and I sit and visit for a bit.” The two friends had the quiet of the Beaufort Estate kitchen to themselves. They talked quietly over the last week’s goings on. Samuel with the brothers, and Elizabeth with their wives. It wasn’t planned, but there always seemed this separation except at supper time when the six of them sat around the kitchen table for their meal.

~~~~~

“I was more ashamed than anything, James. It was really nothing….no, that’s not right. It was. My first night in Vancouver, I found the cheapest hotel I could. They had a restaurant - more like a diner - that seemed a local hangout. I met some fellows who seemed quite all right. I’m sure dad would have picked them out in two seconds. The diner was all fifties, with red vinyl stools along a counter. Great music on a juke box! Presley, Paul Anka………”

“Thom, you’re dodging just like you’ve always done. What about these ‘all right fellows’?” James remembered their teenage years when he managed to get into trouble for something Thom had done.

“Now you’re sounding just like dad. And I don’t like it anymore now than I did then. Maybe Sonja and I need to leave. It was a mistake to stay this long.” Thom was feeling trapped and wanted just to get his wife and leave. With that thought, he also knew he finally had a chance to talk to his big brother about that part of his life.

“Ok, James. The short story? I got mixed up with them. They needed someone to drive their getaway car.” Thom finally smiled and laughed. “That sounds pretty melodramatic, doesn’t it?” James did smile, but only briefly. “Ok, I’ll try again. They did see themselves a real pair of desperados, but they only held up convenience stores at night. I knew they had guns, but I was just this raw Island kid and new to this scraping of the underworld. Thought they just carried them for show. You know, to scare people. Didn’t think they’d ever use them.”

Silence. “I’m going to make more coffee, James. This is tougher than I thought it would be. Do you think Samuel will mind?”

“No he won’t. He won’t even know it’s missing. Thom, you could have written me. I could have helped you out, dad wouldn’t have had to know about it. I could have………..”

“No, you couldn’t have. Not for a murder charge.” Silence again. Deafening silence. It was as though the very air was vibrating. Only a whisper “Murder?” James felt frozen inside and out. He pushed his chair back, sat still, took a deep breath and stood. “I didn’t murder anyone, James. One of the other guys did, but the convenience store man pulled a gun from below the till and shot one of them. Elwood….Elmer…something like that….came racing to the car got in and told me to take off. But before I could, the police were there and arrested the two of us. Because I had handled the gun, out of curiosity, my fingerprints were on it. I was charged with murder, but I swear, James, I didn’t do it. I just sat in the car.”

“Does Sonja know about this?” James looked up at his brother. He believed him. “Yes, I told her shortly after we started dating. She just put her hand on mine and said ‘That’s done, Thom.’ We’ve never talked about it since.”

“How did you pay for a lawyer? I could at least have helped with that.” James was trying to remember all those years ago. Why he didn’t know his brother was in trouble?

“Court appointed lawyer. A kid not much older than me, just out of law school. Never had tried any cases, let alone a murder case. The prosecutor said it was open and shut. Not one witness. I got out after ten years on good behaviour. Elwood, or whatever his name is, is still in there as far as I know. I never want to hear or see him again. That was a bad bad part of my life.” The two men sat with their coffee at the table, all Thom’s past years rolled up and put away.

“My yesterday’s are all boxed and neatly put away.”

~ Sheryl Crow