All Roads Lead Home (Bellingwood) (23 page)

In just a week, things felt like they were finally
coming to an end.
Floors were being
finished in the apartment, the DCI had finally released the upstairs bathroom
and workers were gutting them. Ugly institutional bathrooms would soon give way
to a couple of exotic spa bathrooms for Polly's future guests.

Doug and Billy had made an adventure of their nights
on her main floor. They'd brought a gaming system and screen and two cots and
had camped out in the future office space. She heard them up late into the
night and wondered how they ever got enough sleep to be going by the next day,
but they were out every morning to go home and shower, then back by
eight o’clock
to
go to work
. She'd have to do something wonderful for them.

Aaron's people had gone through the root cellar with a
fine tooth comb, looking for any clue as to who had taken the items; then
brought the crates up to the stage. Screens were set up around the stage to
keep curious eyes away as much as possible and while workers were in the
building, there was always someone from the Sheriff's Department there to
ensure no unauthorized person
gained
access.

Lydia, Sylvie, Andy and Beryl had all joined in
cataloging the items throughout the last few days. The crates were all numbered
as to the area where they had been in the basement. Each item was to be photographed
and labeled. If a year could be identified, it was. Any names or other infor
mation found was also logged. So far, t
hey'd only gotten through
about a
third of
the crates, but the process continued.

Polly couldn't get over the vast amount of items in
the crates. It was an incredible timeline. Shoes, items of clothing, novels,
textbooks, 45s, LPs, cassettes, CDs and even 8tracks were all part of the
collection. There were a few yearbooks, some old
pom
pons, a flute, drumsticks, hair bows, quite a few spiral notebooks, old games,
decks of cards, lunch boxes, trophies and plaques; the list kept growing.

Since today was Friday and it seemed like everyone
planned to be at the schoolhouse, Polly got up at 5:30 and was in the kitchen
before the boys woke up. The bread machine was busy kneading dough when Billy
looked in from the counter. "What are you doing up so early, ma ... I
mean, Polly?" he asked.

"Oh, I thought I'd make cinnamon rolls for
breakfast."

"Really?
Wow!"

"They will be ready when you get back this
morning."

"Cool! Okay, I was
just
checking to make sure
everything
was alright,
" he said.

"I think the entire town knows you guys are here
to protect me," Polly said. "Unless the creep is from Mars, he knows
it too and isn't going to try to get in."

Billy threw his shoulders back
, stood up a little straighter
and grinned. "That's us. Knight Protectors!"

She laughed. "And I appreciate it.
A lot."

"Well, we did find out you are a great
cook." he said. She'd cooked every night this week, making everything from
homemade pizza to steaks on the stove top grill. It had been fun having someone
else to cook for, especially a couple of young men who ate their weight every
night. She'd given them run of the kitchen and pleaded with them to clean up
after themselves. They'd taken advantage of the stocked pantry and refrigerator
and she loved it. They were good guys and Polly was glad to have them around.

"Okay, we're out of here. We'll be back before
eight. I can't wait for the cinnamon rolls!" He waved and went to roust
Doug.

Polly pulled the first batch of dough out of the
machine and added ingredients for the next. This was going to be a bit of a
process, but she had to do something to let people know how much she
appreciated their work. She heard Doug yell, "See
ya
later!" and the door slam behind him.

She was rolling out her second batch of rolls when she
heard the door open again. Looking up at the clock, she saw it was
seven thirty
. That
was about right. Henry was nearly always here about this time and there were
rolls and coffee sitting on the counter waiting for the early birds. She
figured the smell of baking and cinnamon would draw people back to the kitchen,
and wasn't paying attention. She slathered butter over the dough and began
sprinkling the cinnamon mixture when she heard a familiar voice.

"Hi, Polly."

It was all she could do to not drop everything in her
hands. She knew she had set her jaw, but she closed her eyes, took a deep
breath and looked up.

Joey was standing in the window of the kitchen,
watching her.

"Joey." She tried to keep all inflection out
of her voice. "What are you doing here?"

"Polly. I've missed you. I had to see you."

"Why, Joey? We're finished."

"I don't think we are, Polly. I know I screwed
up, but we had something great. I mean, you are amazing. How could any smart
man let you go?"

She put her hands down on the workspace in front of
her, bracing herself.

"When did you get in?"
she asked.

"I flew in last night and stayed in Des Moines. I
rented a car, got up early and here I am!"

"Joey," she said with all the patience she
could muster, "how in the hell did you find me."

"Polly, can't you be glad to see me and tell me
we can spend some time together talking things out."

"Oh, Joey," Polly sighed, "Why couldn't
you have left well enough alone? I broke up with you and I left Boston! I'm
done dealing with your stuff and with you. I don't have anything left inside
for you."

She looked down at the work table and began rolling up
the dough.

"Polly, I don't believe that,” he protested. “
I can't believe that! Please tell me you'll at least
give me a chance to show you things are better."

Polly looked up. Joey wasn't whining or crying at her.
He seemed more like a normal person than he had when she left him earlier this
year.

"Joey, I don't care if you stick around, but
you're going to have to find a place to stay. You aren't staying here. You can
get a hotel down in Boone or over in Ames. If we can find time to spend
together, that's cool, but I've got a lot going on and I'm not changing my
world around because you showed up. I didn't ask you to come and I don't
want you here."

She sliced the rolls and put them on a pan, covering
it and setting it near the oven so the dough could rise.

"That's great, Polly. I want you to see that we
still have something great and we can be together."

"Good morning, Polly! Who's your friend?" Henry
came up behind Joey and rested a hand on his shoulder. He reached out with his
right hand to shake Joey's. "Hi! I'm Henry
Sturtz
,
pretty much in charge of construction around here."

Releasing Joey's hand, he picked up a cinnamon roll in
a napkin. Without waiting for an answer, he commented, "Wow, Pol. Homemade
cinnamon rolls? What's the occasion?"

For the first time since Joey showed up, Polly’s heart
felt like it belonged in her chest.
The
strain wash
ed
away and she smiled at Henry.

""Well, everyone has been working so hard
this
week,
I thought I would do something a little special. So,
breakfast it is!

"Oh
,” she
continued. “
And this is Joey Delancy from
Boston. He's decided to see what I'm up to out here in the middle of the
country."

"Then, welcome to Iowa, Joey Delancy!" Henry
said, clapping him on the back again. "Here, have a cinnamon roll! I hear
our Polly is a terrific cook and it looks like I get to be the first to try her
baking!" Henry took a bite from the cinnamon roll, licked his lips
loudly
,
then
put it down on the counter. While he was swallowing,
he picked another up in a napkin and handed it to Joey.

"Wow,” he said. “
Those are amazing. You wouldn't want to miss out on something this
wonderful, would you Joey?"

Polly looked at Henry a little oddly. He'd never been
quite so effusive, but then, she'd never seen him around people he didn't know.

"Polly girl, you're amazing. How long do those
have to rise?" he asked, pointing at the rolls by the oven.

"I suppose about fifteen
more
minutes."

"Then, that's perfect! Can you come upstairs for
a minute? I need to show you what we're working on today in case you want to
make some changes."

Polly
cocked her
head to the side,
trying to understand him. N
either his body language nor his eyes said anything
was out of the ordinary, but his request certainly was.

"Sure," she said. "I'll be right there.
Let me wash my hands."

He poured a cup of coffee and walked away. "Sure
are great cinnamon rolls, Polly!"

"Joey.” Polly said, “This place is about to
get busy
. I've
got workmen and some friends coming in
.
I'm not going to have time to talk to you today."

"That's alright, Polly.” He looked around. "Is
there anything I can do to help?"

"
Ummmm
... no,"
she said. "Look, why don't you head to Boone. There's plenty to do down
there. I'll drive down and meet you at the Giggling Goat about seven tonight. You
have all day to find it. I'll see you there."

"Uh.
Okay." he hesitated as he spoke. "I was
kind of hoping we could talk this morning, but if you're busy."

"Yep.
I'm busy. You can see I've got a million things going
on. So, you go to Boone and I'll see you this evening."

She walked out of the kitchen and waited for him to
follow. He picked up the cinnamon roll Henry had given him and walked to the
front door. She stopped at the steps, about to head up. Joey stopped as well
and put his arm around her waist, trying to pull her in for a kiss.

"No, Joey. Just. No." She pulled away and
moved up one step.

"Alright, Polly.
I'm sorry. I've missed you so much and it is so good
to see you." He walked to the door,
then
turned to look at
her. "I guess I'll see you tonight."

"Goodbye Joey." She walked up the steps and
heard the door shut behind her. She glanced around to make sure he was gone and
then heard a car turn on and drive away.

Henry was waiting at the
top of the stairs.
"Is
everything okay, Pol?" he asked.

"Oh," she said with a faked brightness,
"Everything is fine! Now, what did you need to ask me?"

"Polly. You know better than that. I've got this
covered up here. Who was that and why was he asking if you guys could still be
together?"

"Oh, you heard that."

"Yes, I heard that. Who is the guy and why is he
here?"

Polly backed up and stood straighter. "Look,
Henry. I know this town has somehow decided I need to be taken care of and I
love that everyone here is so friendly, but this is a little out of bounds,
don't you think?"

"Polly. I'm sorry,” Henry said. “
He was making you uncomfortable and it seemed as if
you didn't want to talk to him. It also seems as if you two have a history and
he's trying to reignite something. If you had wanted to make something happen
with him, you might have stayed in Boston. But, you didn't. You came out here. If
you're hiding out here to get away from him, you're spending a hell of a lot of
money on it. And that seems stupid.”

Now Polly became infuriated.

"Look,” she spat.
“
It's none of your damned business how much money I spend or what I
spend it on. I'm not a stupid young girl who needs a man to advise her about
what to do with her life. I've been doing that all on my own for a long time. I
don't need you or Sheriff Merritt or Lydia or anyone else thinking I can't
manage my life. If I want your help in my life, I'll ask for it. Otherwise, I'm
paying you to work on my building. So, if you don't have a question for me, I
have things to do."

She
strode
back down the steps and realized the tension which
had left her when Henry showed up in the window of her kitchen was now
back
in triple
measure
. She wanted to cry and scream and
kick something. Instead, she went back into the kitchen and pulled the third
batch of dough out of the machine. She punched
it
a couple of times on the work
table, and then grabbed the rolling pin and hit it with some force before
rolling it out.