Finding the Way Back (4 page)

Glancing out the window, I noticed the
morning beckoning. I walked to the back door and stepped outside,
smelling the fresh morning air. The thaw had been out of the ground
for weeks and the ground was damp and fragrant with new growing
grass. Minnesota winters are notoriously long, and it made the
springtime feel that much more welcome.

The wood patio badly needed a coat of
varnish, but the structure seemed sound. There were two battered
orange and green striped lawn chairs folded up and standing against
the house. Next to the patio were some stray tulips and the red and
yellow colors greeted me happily, but otherwise the area was devoid
of any homey touches. It could be quite cute with flower pots, I
thought, making a mental note to pick up some geranium
planters.

I shook a chair out to disturb anything that
might be living in it and sat down to enjoy the morning. It was a
brisk, spring morning but my steaming coffee kept my hands warm. I
decided to give myself ten more minutes to enjoy the morning, then
I would have to get back to work. With the warm sun on my face, I
settled into the chair and enjoyed listening to the birds
chirping.

Extending my ten minutes to fifteen, I went
back inside feeling rejuvenated. There was sunlight streaming in
the dirty kitchen windows, and the house no longer seemed quite so
dark. There is something about the light in the morning, something
golden and encouraging, especially in the spring. I was going to
need all the energy I could muster to get this house in shape. I
decided to start on the kitchen first.

I made another cup of coffee and carried it
with me as I went to my room to dress. Grabbing a pair of jeans, an
old t-shirt and my toiletries I made my way to the bathroom. At
least this room was in working order and uncluttered, although a
quick scrub would be in order. It hadn’t been updated so it
retained most of its charm from when it originally had been built.
A large claw-footed tub dominated the space, with a pedestal sink
that was charming in shape although chipped and needing repair or
replacing. The floor had been covered with a blue carpet which
couldn’t have been sanitary, nor was it attractive. The carpet
could be easily removed and I hoped the original tiles would be
under it.

I threw on the faded jeans and a green
t-shirt, then braided my hair. I splashed some water on my face, no
need for makeup with my filthy day ahead. I brushed my teeth and
smiled at myself in the oval mirror. My bangs hung in my eyes, and
I realized that they would drive me nuts. I shook my head and
looked through my toiletries bag, finding a small scissors. I
debated for a moment whether I should, in fact, cut my own
bangs.

“Sorry, Marcie,” I apologized to my
hairdresser. This was one more mistake she would have to fix at my
next appointment. I gathered my bangs in a bunch between my
fingertips and snipped. Releasing my hair it fell to just above my
eyebrows. “Oops,” I sighed. Now they were too short, but at least
they weren’t driving me crazy. Probably I should have just gone in
and had Marcie do it, then I could have had her put some highlights
in my mousy, dishwater hair. With a shrug of my shoulders, I
studied my image in the mirror again. It had been a while since I’d
done anything for myself. I’d been so depressed lately I was lucky
to wash my hair, let alone have it professionally done. My skin was
too pale after the long winter. The dark circles beneath my blue
eyes gave away the restless, sleepless nights that had plagued me
the last several months. I used to think my small pug nose and too
wide smile were cute. Now I felt like the life had been beaten out
of me and I just felt plain and unattractive.

Another knock at the front door interrupted
my reverie. I supposed it was probably the racquetball team back
for another try. I ran back into my bedroom to grab socks and
tennis shoes before I headed downstairs. Trying to be an adult, I
decided not to hide and hoped I could summon up a polite rejection.
I peeked out the window to see who it was and my heart fell to my
stomach.

It was Saundra.

Chapter
Four

Large green eyes caked with eye shadow and
mascara peered at me through the panes of glass in the door. A
middle-aged woman in a younger woman’s clothes wiggled her fingers
at me, smiling with a big, toothy grin rimmed in bright red
lipstick. What was she doing here? Her face was unnaturally inert
as she smiled at me, and I wondered how long it had been since her
last Botox treatment. I was fascinated yet repelled by the
unnatural combination of human flesh and artificial
enhancements.

It occurred to me that I really needed to put
a lock on the three season porch screen door so I wouldn’t end up
face to face with a monstrosity like this, unprepared. I pulled the
door open and tried to smile, but my face felt frozen in a fake
grin almost as unnatural as hers. Our last meeting at my
grandfather’s funeral had been less then cordial, and I felt
another confrontation coming. She was convinced that there was a
second will which named her as a beneficiary. As I looked around
the house I wondered—beneficiary of what?

“Why Sandra, what brings you here?”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. ”It’s Saundra,
dear,” she simpered. I took in her glossy, red hair piled on top of
her head, and the ridiculously tight fuchsia blouse with ruffles
that accentuated way too much cleavage for me at ten o’clock in the
morning. It looked as if she’d gained a few pounds since she’d
purchased her outfit, unless she deliberately bought it two sizes
too tight. Her flesh protruded from the top of her black pencil
skirt making it look as if she’d purchased it from the junior
section of Macy’s. I wondered where on earth she could be headed
dressed like this, then surmised she was probably on her way to the
country club to pick out her next victim. I was surprised she could
be outside on a day with so much sun. Wait, was that a slight wisp
of smoke coming off her shoulders?

I grinned in earnest now, knowing by her
reaction that I’d irritated her almost as much as she had irritated
me just by being there.

“Hum, yes?”

“I heard you had moved in and I wanted to
welcome you back home.”

“Well, isn’t that nice? Thanks for coming by.
Actually, I was just on my way out. Connie is coming home today and
I promised to pick her up at the airport.”

“Really,” she went on as if she hadn’t even
heard me. “I heard you were going to fix the old place up.”

“The old rumor mill in this little town just
keeps on turning, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, we do like to take care of our own,
don’t we? Since you haven’t been here for many years I wanted to
recommend some good contractors that I’ve worked with. You know
there are so many unscrupulous people out there.”

“That’s so kind of you. If you just write
down some names I’ll check their references later.”

“References? I’m giving you my personal
assurances they are reputable people.” Her smile took on a harder
quality as I smiled innocently at her. I would sooner have all my
fingernails bitten off by a beaver than take any advice from
her.

“Thanks for coming by, Sandra, but I really
have to go.” It was against my nature to be this rude to someone,
but I just couldn’t deal with my dead grandfather’s ex-girlfriend
right now.

“It’s SAUNDRA!” I heard her yelp as I closed
the door.

“Whatever.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie. I did have to leave
to pick up Connie. Just not quite yet. I couldn’t waste any more
time on BS. I had work to do.

Rolling up my sleeves, literally and
metaphorically, I made my way to the kitchen. I gazed around,
trying to come up with a plan. Where do you start on a mess like
this?

Although there wasn’t much space left in the
dining room, I started by stacking all the boxes and miscellaneous
things in the spare spaces between other boxes. Unfortunately, I
could hardly walk into the dining room now but I didn’t have time
to go through anything in detail today.

To my surprise, after moving some of the
boxes out of the way, the small door I could see led to a tiny
bathroom that had a functioning toilet and sink. While it was
dusty, it was cleaner than I would have expected. Looking under the
sink I found disinfectant, plastic gloves, some scrub brushes, a
large bucket and some garbage bags. I was prepared to do battle
with the grime.

I spent the next several hours cleaning the
kitchen until my knees hurt and my back ached. Pausing to admire my
handiwork, I looked up at the clock on the stove and my heart
jumped. One o’clock! I needed to leave to go get Connie. Not only
that, I suddenly realized I was starving since I hadn’t eaten
anything all morning. I would have to find a drive-thru on the
way.

Looking down at my dirty clothes and
disheveled appearance, I realized there was no time to change my
clothes or get cleaned up. I shrugged and dismissed the thought. I
knew Connie wouldn’t even notice so I just couldn’t worry about it.
I found my keys and grabbed my purse, then jumped in my old beat up
Civic and headed out to the airport, trying to make good time
without getting a speeding ticket. Lunch would have to wait.

After getting cut off twice and nearly
missing my exit on the interstate, I parked my car at the
Minneapolis-St.Paul Airport short-term lot and rushed in to the
baggage claim area. I looked up at the clock and noticed I was only
twenty minutes past Connie’s arrival time. It would take at least
that long for her to deplane and for her luggage to make it to the
carousels. I scanned the monitors to see if her plane had landed
yet, then groaned. Her flight was delayed two hours. God, how I
hated airports.

Since all of the nicer chairs were taken I
found an uncomfortable plastic chair, positioning myself out of the
way so people weren’t constantly walking past me. From my seat I
glanced around, looking to see if there were any shops where I
could kill some time. Disappointed, I realized all the good places
were upstairs by the departure concourses. The best I could hope
for was a coffee, but I’d already had my quota for the day.
Besides, I was already sitting and I didn’t feel like getting up
now after spending the whole morning scrubbing a filthy
kitchen.

Slouching down in my chair, I tilted my head
back and closed my eyes. What a fiasco. I could still see my mother
and Aunt Shelly in the restaurant where they presented me with
their brilliant plan. When I walked in I could see the two silver
heads tilted toward each other whispering as they finalized the
scheme born of their unholy alliance.

I should have known something was up when
they invited me to my favorite bistro. They were seated in a booth
by the large floor to ceiling windows, and as I sat down, a waiter
arrived with a pineapple-infused vodka martini for me, before I’d
even had time to say hello. The sun was shining on the ornamental
pond outside, with the fountain spraying mist into the air and
creating a full-colored rainbow. I knew there was trouble afoot.
They were both smiling so sweetly, sugar wouldn’t melt in their
mouths.

“It’ll just be a short while until you’re
both back on your feet,” Mom said, taking a sip of her white
wine.

“Connie’s never been on her feet,” I told her
nastily, then remembered my manners. “Sorry, Aunt Shelly.”

“Cattiness does not become you, Laney. There
was a time when that was true,” my aunt agreed, “but you may be
surprised at how much she’s changed. I think it’s a great idea for
you two to be rooming together for a while. You two used to be very
close and it’s time to start being a family again. You may be a
good influence on one another.”

“I don’t want to be any influence on anyone.
I just want to work through my troubles in my own way.” I hadn’t
added that I was tired of living up to expectations that weren’t my
own.

“It’ll be a help to us,” my mother
emphasized. “You know Shelly and I can’t fix that house up
ourselves. And we’ll never sell it for what it’s worth looking the
way it does now, filled with all the accumulated ‘treasures’ our
father brought home. It can be your own special decorating
project—we’ll give you free rein. You can take before and after
photos for that designer’s portfolio you’ve always talked about
putting together. We’ve been praying for an answer, Laney, and I
think this is it.”

I knew there was no use arguing. I looked
across the table at the two little old ladies. They could be twins
sitting there with their short cropped silver hair, crisp white
slacks and complimentary aqua and pink spring blazers. They looked
so hopeful but I didn’t see how I could possibly be the answer to
someone else’s prayers.
I
sure hadn’t had much hope lately.
I knew it was hard for them. Both had lost their husbands in the
last year, and now their father. How could I say no? Besides, there
would be no peace until I agreed with this scheme. I should be
grateful—I secretly liked the idea of fixing up the place in my own
way. I had always dreamed of becoming a decorator. This project
might actually help me turn that dream into a reality. Besides, at
the moment I had nowhere else to go and no other plans. I could
store my furniture and possessions at her place, but I certainly
couldn’t live with Mom. That was a special kind of hell I would
stave off as long as I could.

“Fine. I’ll do it. But tell Connie I’m in
charge.”

And now here I was—waiting for a cousin I’d
hardly seen in years, and a big pile of work waiting for me back at
the house. At least my life was getting more interesting.

I stood at the terminal, suddenly aware that
while Connie didn’t care how I looked, the people around me were
probably thinking I was a homeless person who wandered in to sleep
on these uncomfortable chairs. I hadn’t taken a shower, I wasn’t
wearing any make-up, I was sure I smelled, wearing an old ripped
sweatshirt and faded jeans stained from bleach and dirt. Could I
look more like a vagrant? I was never one to worry about looking
perfect, but even this was pushing my limits. I looked at the other
people around me and realized that, in reality, they could probably
care less. No one was giving me a second look.