Sisters
A trip out of town
Niece, her husband
and grand niece
Visiting, jigsaw puzzles
and stories
A loop around home town
before return to city
Supper out with brother
(more stories and memory work)
Scrabble (I won)
Sisters
“When you finally go back to your old home, you find
it wasn’t the old home you missed but your childhood.”
~ Sam Ewing, baseball player
Sisters
A cousin
Stories and old photos
Supper out (more stories)
Scrabble (I lost)
Sisters (research)
“In every conceivable manner,
the family is link to our past,
bridge to our future.”
~ Alex Haley
Sisters
Laughing
Stories told
Visiting
Sisters
“A sister is a little bit of childhood that can never be lost.”
~ Marion C. Garretty,
20th Century American poet
“When life begins
feeling too distant,
When, unknowingly,
distances lengthen
Gaps form and
waver all around……”
Gaps are invisible
but filled with our lives
Distance is felt when,
from the blue, a note arrives
Then we know…..
how long it has been.
“Distance was a dangerous thing, she knew. Distance changed people.”
~ Rohinton Mistry, A Fine Balance
Author’s Note: the first three stanza’s were penned by one of my characters (Dez) from Episode 130 of Situationally Theirs. It is a story of two sisters that I wrote throughout the COVID 19 pandemic.
Open hearted and sad, the residents of The Beaufort Estate were gathered together for a meeting. It had become evident that it was time to say good bye to the Storyteller. Martha Haverstock-Digby and her husband James Digby had talked quietly over the Christmas holidays about their futures. On Christmas Eve, they had Samuel Forrester and Elizabeth Saunders to their cottage for supper. The four of them had been working at the Estate for well over 20 years. James and Samuel had actually been raised on the Estate. James Digby took over butler duties when his father retired. Samuel Forrester took over the groundskeeping when his father retired. Martha, the housekeeper and Elizabeth, better known as Cook, came to the Estate at the same time. They had all seen marriages, deaths, children and even a little ghost girl. So on Christmas Eve they agreed that a meeting was needed for them all on the Estate. The pandemic was long over, even if the Covid virus was still hovering about. They were all getting on with their lives, their individual stories quiet but moving forward.
Included at the meeting was the chauffeur, Giles Thornton and his family; Martha’s daughter and a teacher, Joanie Richardson and her children, Ben and Abby; Brigitte Smithson had been a maid and personal assistant to Emelina. All of this little community had been affected in some way by the pandemic. But as they always had, they rallied around each other.
After the meeting, Digby drew up a letter to the Storyteller, explaining their decision. He had to go to his office and close the door to get his thoughts in order. While he was composing the letter, Cook served tea and coffee, and fresh baking to the tearful group. Martha kept trying to find ways that they could send in their stories as they had the previous Christmas. Samuel was just quiet. Martha’s grandchildren were off in a corner with Gile’s sons not knowing why they had to be there anyway. Joanie sat by her mother and comforted her.
Digby returned to the long table in the big old kitchen. He read out the letter in a strained voice, clearing his throat several times. “We are all very sad about our decision to end our relationship with the Storyteller. However, each of us has to get on with our lives whether it is retirement, paying attention to our growing children, focusing more on our jobs here, or taking holidays away from the Estate.” He paused. “This may sound ungrateful, but over these last couple of years, making sure our stories are told has become an interruption in our lives. During the pandemic, it was important to tell our stories and how we dealt with coming back together again. We have all become closer because of it and grateful to all those people who have read our stories.” Dez stood and turned to her sister, “I would never have known any of you if that nasty virus hadn’t upended my life.” She wiped her eyes and sat again. Emelina hugged her and said “If I hadn’t been left alone that night, when the radio told us all to isolate, I wouldn’t have had to get out of bed and out of myself to go find you, Dez.” She looked around the table. “You all saved my life by leaving me to myself that night. You are so like a family to me.” Samuel, his face stern, was quiet. He never had liked all this kind of gushy talk. Elizabeth, her back to the group filling the tea pot, wiped a tear from her eye before returning to the table. “Enough going on and on. We will still come to work tomorrow and get ready for the next wedding, right Miss Dez?”
Tension dissolved as the women started talking about wedding plans. Digby, Samuel and Giles started talking about what the winter would bring. “No snow forecast, Giles? How was the highway in all the rain? Ground’s pretty mushy out here.”
Sarah, the little ghost girl, had been at the meeting, sitting atop the cupboards. She had rather liked her story being told. She often felt lonely, but now that so many of these people were kind to her, she wasn’t worried. And she loved it when Cook made cookies, even if she couldn’t eat them or smell them. She remembered them. She sighed and floated across the ceiling and up the stairs to hide in the book shelf.
~~~~~
“Great is the art of beginning, but greater is the art of ending.”
~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The sad look on Rusty’s face made her feel almost guilty. But Annabelle knew that he would be going to Ben’s for a Christmas sleep over. He was just trying to find out where she was going. He’d find out pretty soon. Her dad called from the front door. “Come on, you two. I’ve got the car out. Have you both got your overnight back packs? Annabelle, Abby’s grandma is expecting you girls for supper.” Rusty’s face went from sad to confused!
“Coming dad!” She grinned at Rusty. “Abby and I are going to her grandma’s. So. There.” Rusty bent over laughing. “I knew that. Dad told me. He’s picking up Ben when he picks up Abby. Fooled you!!” Now it was Annabelle’s turn to have a sad look on her face. “Well, we’ll have more fun. And tomorrow morning Abby’s Auntie Cook will let us decorate her Christmas cookies.”
Abby was younger than Annabelle, but they had become good friends at school. Abby talked about bees and Annabelle talked about baking. Baking and bees led them to Auntie Cook on a cookie baking day. Elizabeth set the girls to work rolling out the dough and making bee shaped cookies. After that they were BFFs.
Ben and Rusty were not in the same class at school, Ben a couple years older than Rusty. Rusty thought Ben was stuck up. Ben thought Rusty was, well, just weird. One day, Ben saw Rusty being bullied by two of the bigger guys in their class and backed him up. Ben had had his own problem with bullies and hated to see it happen to anyone else. By himself, Rusty was an easy target. With Ben having his back, the two bullies decided that they’d just wind up with bloody noses and took off. The two boys were friends after that. Not BFFs right away, but over a school year, they found they liked the same classes, Rusty played guitar, so did Ben and they both liked hamburgers. To an adult that wouldn't seem like a good basis for a friendship, but for young boys, it was enough.
~~~~~
Two nights. “When was the last time you and I had the house to ourselves for two nights in a row Madge?” The couple had slept all one night, slept in the next morning, spent the afternoon lazing in their pyjamas, went out dining and dancing the next night. “I thought that we wouldn’t know how to romance anymore, Grant. It was beautiful. Thank you.” Grant had surprised Madge with the dining and dancing in a restaurant usually out of their reach. Her only clue was that he insisted that they dress up. Their weekend over, Grant had picked up the kids and brought them home.
“Don’t talk over each other. Annabelle, you go first. What was the most fun with Abby?……..and make it short.” Grant always had to slow his daughter down. She tried to get every detail in all in one breath. “When I got there, her grandma had supper all ready, but needed the Christmas decorations on the table, so Abby and I got out the Christmas candles and the Christmas napkins, after supper, we got our pyjamas on, we watched Elf.” She took a deep breath. “We opened the presents that her Grandpa James had bought, we each got an Elf on the Shelf. Abby’s is dressed in green and mine is dressed in red, the next day we went over to the big kitchen at the Estate, it’s gorgeous and huge, Abby’s Auntie Cook had the cookies and icing and sparkles out…….”
Grant held up his hand. His daughter could tell them more later. He had doubted that she could put the brakes on. “So you had a good time! Wonderful, honey. Let’s let Rusty talk now.” He hoped he sounded more patient than he felt. “Go ahead, Rusty.” Silence. “Not much to tell, Dad. We had a good time. Ben has all kinds of video games. His mom had hamburgers for us to eat. We didn’t have to go to bed until midnight both nights. We talked about the football game our school team is playing next week. Mainly, just guy talk.”
~~~~~
“What a great way to start the Christmas season, Grant.” Their twins had been sleeping for a couple of hours. Grant and Madge were settling into bed. “Yes, my darling, it was, and we need to find a way to have our own weekends more often.”
“For in every adult there dwells the child that was, and
in every child there lies the adult that will be.”
~ John Connolly, The Book of Lost Things
*Authors Note: Chapter One and Chapter Two of Situationally Theirs have 165 episodes each. Tonight’s post is the final episode of Chapter Two. I am suspending this story for the month of December while I determine whether to proceed with future Chapters. Thank you to everyone who has been following the characters of the Beaufort Estate.
“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
As they drove home they took the scenic ocean route. The night hid the foliage and flowers, but the stars were bright. If it was a moonlit night, its bright light traced a path across the water. They would park at an overlook to the water. On a clear night, they walked hand in hand on a familiar path. Listened to distant foghorns. Pointed out the Big Dipper, Orion, the North Star.
On this night, they were in the park when the snow started. Big, soft flakes that disappeared in the black water, clung to the fencing, brightened the night. Elizabeth shivered. “Time to get home and get warm, Samuel. Tea and coffee cake?”
“Suppose we should. Don’t want to be on these roads if this snow keeps up. Sure is pretty though.” He opened her door for her, brushed the snow off the windshield and climbed in for the drive back to the Estate. “It’ll be gone by morning, don’t you think? It’s not cold enough to stay much into the morning.”
~~~~~
“Hasn’t been much to talk about tonight, Elizabeth. With the two couples off traipsing around the country and Martha and James keeping to themselves, the old place is pretty quiet.”
“I like it quiet. May be strange but, when I hear the news, and all the troubles in the world, quiet is just like I like it. I guess I’m not much of a talker. There was time when all I could do was talk and argue. Have opinions about the state of the world, life in general, whether I was being treated right. Guess that wisdom we heard so much about when we were young, has slowed that talking down.”
Samuel laughed. “You just might have something there, Elizabeth. All the talking that does carry on is just a bunch of going around in circles. The same circles folks have been going around for as long as there’s been life.” He cut himself another big cut of coffee cake, held it up where he could take a good look at it. “But for where I’m sittin’, this cake and the woman that made it, are all I need. There’s just no fight in me anymore. Does that sound like I’ve given up on things?”
Elizabeth’s cheeks felt warm when she heard Samuel’s sideways speech about his feelings for her. She knew some women would be offended, but she had known him for a long time. He did tell a good story, but feelings?
“That’s why I like going to the movies, or read a book. Listen to stories. That makes the troubles of that world all get fixed. When the story’s been told, it’s done. I can think of all the different ways that a story could be told, could end and leave it at that. I can’t fix what’s going on in the rest of the world, but I can take care of where I am.” She knew she was no better at talking about feelings than Samuel was, but had paid attention to the things that he liked. Those things she did take care of.
“Snow followed us here, Elizabeth.” Samuel had gotten up to get his coat on and looked out the window. Heavy wet snow was falling. Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong, two of their favourites, came to their minds at the same time singing “Baby it’s cold outside.”
“Get your coat off, Samuel. No point in you going out in that. You can go in the morning.”
“Be slow to fall into friendship, but when you are in,
continue firm and constant.”
~ Socrates
“Grandma, mom is worried about me and I don’t think she needs to be.” Her little face set, her usual sunny smile missing, Martha set down her tea. She patted the seat beside her. “Now, now, Abby, mother’s do worry about their children. I still worry about your mother from time to time. Tell me about this worry.” Abby sat by her grandmother, stared at the table then looked up at Martha. “She thinks I’m not eating enough.” Martha glanced at Elizabeth. “Well, why would she think that? Everyone has a poor appetite once in a while.”
“I’m watching my weight, grandma. I want to be like the girls at school. My appetite is ok, except sometimes I get really hungry. But I always eat something at each meal.” Elizabeth stepped in. “So that’s why I’ve missed you after school. You always come in for cookies and chocolate milk until the last week or so.”
For the remainder of the afternoon, they talked. The three of them, Abby’s grandma, her Auntie Cook and Abby, decided that Abby would see their doctor before she followed any diet. Martha hoped that would be enough, but decided to look up counselors in Hartley for her granddaughter.
~~~~~
“We may have caught a problem in time, Joanie. Abby’s been here this afternoon.” She told her daughter the plans they had set up. Joanie sounded relieved but still worried. She had seen in her students, girls and one or two boys, that succumbed to eating disorders and did not want that to happen to her daughter. “You and the children come to the cottage for supper on Sunday. I’m doing a pot roast that will be too much for just James and I.”
“Thank you mom! For your talk with Abby and for the invitation. We’ll be there ~ as a matter of fact why don’t we come early. I’ll bring a salad.” Plans set in motion, hopefully life would settle into a comfortable routine again.
“There is no school equal to decent home and
no teachers equal to honest virtuous parents.”
~ Mahatma Gandhi
“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
