Past Due (30 page)

Tres battled the smile on his face and then offered insincere sympathies, “I’m surprised social services never stepped in.”

Tanner’s voice was grave as he said, pointing the hammer at Tres, “No, but you’re lucky she didn’t turn me gay.”

Tres rolled with laughter; Tanner joined him as if it were infectious. They laughed until a voice yelled from the ground, “Hey what’s so funny up there? I thought you guys were going to have the roof done before the turkey was on the table.”

Tanner and Tres climbed to the peak of the roof and looked over the top. Jenna waved and yelled, “You two are supposed to be working. Dinner’s in an hour.”

“We’ll be done,” Tres promised.

“Well, I hear more giggling than hammering.”

“Men don’t giggle,” Tanner complained.

Tres gave Tanner a sly smile, “At least not men who’ve overcome the girly girl influence.”

Tanner and Tres shared a knuckle bump. Jenna shook her head not even bothering to ask for an explanation.

“Well,” Jenna bossed, “you’ve only got about an hour before dinner. I don’t know why you guys decided to work on Thanksgiving Day.”

“We’ll be done, woman.,” Tres called, down. “Don’t be bossing around men with hammers and tool belts.”

“Yeah,” Tanner agreed with manly gusto.

Jenna shook her head and rolled her eyes at the pair before she disappeared back into the house.

She took in the moment while her eyes adjusted to the dim indoor light to count her blessings and give personal thanks for the miracles of her life. From the cradle beside the couch, the sounds of her waking child, Samuel Jacob, rose. He woke with coos and grunts, his warm up before full blown fussing. He rarely made a great show of temper, because he seldom had the chance. Someone in his family always swarmed, snatching him up as he began to squirm. Maureen often admonished he needed to cry a little to work his lungs, though she never allowed him to emit more than the slightest whimper when she was around.

Jenna listened quietly a moment. Eyes closed, the sounds of her life embraced her. Outside, the gulls screeched and the wind whispered through the windows drowned out occasionally by the scraping, pounding, and laughter from the roof. Inside the appliances hummed and Sam snuffled and kicked his chubby legs loosening himself from his swaddled cocoon. The sounds of comfort. The sounds of home.

Jenna sighed contentedly and moved lazily to the cradle. Sam’s eyes were open wide and his fist moved hungrily to his mouth as he blew spit bubbles against it. He squealed with delight when he heard his mother’s voice and thrashed happily when her face came into view. He giggled as she lifted him from the cradle and nestled him against her shoulder as she brushed kisses across his silky cheek.

“I’m a lucky girl, hmm, baby?” She asked the wiggly child as she changed him and wrapped him in a blanket. She re-emerged from the house tossing the blanket over his head to shelter him from the sun and the wind. She waved at Tres and Tanner warning them again the dinner hour was even closer. They shooed her away, so she moved on to Maureen’s door going directly to the kitchen where she was accosted by Maureen, “Ooh, Baby Sam wants to see his old Nanny.”

Jenna surrendered him with a smile, laughing as Maureen waltzed him around the kitchen with her awkward gait humming and kissing his downy head.

“I think he’s holding his head up early. Another strong smart boy like his big brother.” She turned to Grandpa Sam who sat at the table peeling potatoes, “Don’t you think, Sam? Only nine weeks old and already singin’ and talking?”

Sam nodded, a smile twitching the corners of his mouth, “I have to agree, Maureen, but then I am partial.”

“Well, you’re supposed to be, Grandpa.”

Jenna gave them each a kiss on the cheek, and began washing dishes, quietly enjoying the banter between Maureen and her father. Maureen encouraged Sam to return to the pulpit. Sam disagreed. Jenna heard a car pull up and she dried her hands and excused herself, though she wasn’t certain they heard her over their battle over whether or not God was calling Sam back into service. They had become constant companions and made a peculiar pair. Sam listened, Maureen talked.

Jenna stepped off the porch and greeted her mother- in- law and Grams.

“Traffic was crazy. I hope we aren’t late.” Barbara said.

“No, dinner is just getting finished,” Jenna raised her voice enough to be heard on the roof. “And your son is still pounding on the roof.”

“Fifteen minutes,” the faceless voice yelled from above.

“He’s been saying that since noon.”

“Did we beat Trip? He’s such a baby hog,” Barbara asked.

“Yes. He called from Nags Head. You’ve got about forty minutes.”

“Only if he drives the speed limit.” Barbara sounded a bit alarmed and looked ready to bolt in order to hunt down her grandson.

“Dear,” Grams said with a smile and a touch to her daughter’s arm, “you’ve got time. Trip obeys all speed limits. He doesn’t drive at warp speed like Craig.”

Barbara nodded.

“How is Craig?” Jenna asked as she escorted them to the house.

“Just found out he’s holed up in Montana. I guess paying penance for his role in this fiasco.”

“He shouldn’t feel any worse than the rest of us,” Jenna worried. Craig had taken the news harder than most and seemed to transform from playboy to near recluse overnight.

“Oh, don’t worry for him, Jenna. The boy will be thirty next year. It’s time for him to grow up and take his life seriously.”

“Still...”

“If his mother hasn’t got time to worry than neither do you.”

Jenna wasn’t convinced, but she knew better than to argue with Barbara. They got along well, but Jenna would never feel on par in any battle with her dynamic mother- in- law.

“So, how is the election going?” Jenna asked.

Barbara slowed to a stop, “It’s invigorating, Jenna. I haven’t felt so alive in years. I was meant for politics, and with Tres’s help, I might just get elected. He really is a natural. If he should ever change his mind...”

“Oh, no.” Jenna held up her hand like a traffic cop ordering a halt. “Tres is happy consulting and building his construction company. We’ll leave the public life to you.”

“I know, dear, don’t worry, no pressure. My son has never been so happy, and my family hasn’t been this close in years. I have no intention of tampering with what is in such perfect working condition. Now, I must go wrestle my grandson from Maureen before Trip arrives.” 

Dinner was served after Sam gave the blessing, thanking the Lord for the warmth of family and friends and the blessing of the children.

Maureen nodded adding an adamant “amen.” She slipped in an additional, “Public prayer comes so natural to you, Sam.”

Sam blushed and countered, “Didn’t you have something you wanted to say to the kids?”

“Oh, yes,” Maureen said, and then was momentarily quiet as she fumbled with the silverware beside her plate. She took a deep breath, and then looked to Tres and Jenna who sat close together; to Tanner beside his dad; then to baby Sam as he paced the room on his Uncle Trip’s shoulder.

Maureen cleared her throat, “I’ve been giving a good deal of thought to things lately. And, well, I’ve decided it’s only sensible, if you want, for you two kids
to
move on over here to the big house. All of you in that little place and me rambling around here in this big old house? Well, it just makes no sense.”

Jenna’s jaw dropped and she began to resist. She knew how much Maureen loved this house. It was her family’s home. Every creaking floor board and crooked corner was cherished by its owner.

Maureen squelched comment with a sweep of her hand, “Both of these houses have been in my family for years and they will stay in my family. You two kids need more room, and I need a place that’s easier to keep up with. It’s just practical. And, I’ll admit, selfishly, I want to be front and center to my grandchildren’s life and don’t want you guys to ever have to move away.”

Jenna’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know how to thank you, Maureen.”

Maureen blushed, “It’s just a house.”

“No,” Jenna blotted her eyes with her napkin. “It’s more than that. You made me family when I thought I had no one in this world. You have always been there, and if it weren’t for your wisdom, this day may never have come. You’ve given me the courage to face all my mistakes and fears. And I’ve never even thanked you properly,” Jenna admitted behind the deluge of tears.

Maureen wiped nervously at the tears on her own cheek, “No thanks ever needed, darlin’. I’d been one lonely soul without you and Tanner. Seems I might be the only winner in this whole mix up and it shames me just a little to be glad for it. If I hadn’t had you Jenna…why, I don’t think I’d have survived burying my baby alone.” Maureen wiped her eyes, her chin quivered.

Jenna was out of her seat and hugging Maureen in an instant. They both cried and laughed, and then looking to the people around them they smiled and collected themselves.

Sam rubbed his daughter’s arm soothingly sagely recognizing, “There is a wisdom to all things. Even those that seem completely wrong.”

“You’re right. He never should have left the pulpit,” Jenna whispered loudly to Maureen, squeezing her father’s shoulder as she passed him returning to her seat.

Sam shook his head and hastily ordered, “Well, let’s eat before it gets cold.”

Jenna settled herself on her seat and smiled up at her husband. “I guess you have another house to start hammering on.” He took her hand and pulled her in brushing her hair back from her ear. He nipped her ear lobe with his teeth surmising in a husky voice, “And you have a lot of empty bedrooms to fill.” Jenna turned crimson as goose bumps spread with the electric promise she knew would come later.

About the Author

Elizabeth divides her time between her beach cottage and her scrupulously clean house in the hills of West Virginia.

Ooops. That's fantasy Elizabeth. The real Elizabeth spends her days schlepping after her four boys (five if you count their father) and the assortment of pets they swore they'd take care of.

She does live in West Virginia; the house is clean when the mother-in-law visits; and she does have serious dreams of living at the beach.

Elizabeth is a Marshall University graduate with a degree in counseling. This has proven very beneficial when dealing with the make-believe friends she hangs out with all day (she calls this 'writing').

Follow her blog at:
http://www.eseckman.blogspot.com