Be Sweet (23 page)

“Yeah, but that's only if they keep you here,” he says with a forced chuckle. “Listen, Charlene, you're not—”

My heart softens. “No plans to leave right now, Peter. Relax.”

“Okay. Are you getting lots of syrup?”

“We're doing okay. I won't be able to help for a couple of days.”

“Why not?”

I explain what happened with my ankle, leaving out the parts about Stephanie and Janni.

“Leave it to you to climb a tree. I never realized you had such tom-boy tendencies.”

He's probably grimacing over the thought of me mingling with tree dirt. “Yes, Peter, it's true. I get dirty. I've even been known to have holes in my jeans.”

I think he gasps here. “Well, I forgive you,” he tries to sound as though he's joking, but I know better.

“I can't tell you how relieved I am.” A cell phone rings on a nearby table. It appears in all the excitement, Dad left his phone behind. “Listen, Peter, I've got to go. Dad's phone is ringing.”

One glance at the Caller ID tells me it's Gertie. “Hello?”

She hangs up. Guess she doesn't know he has Caller ID.

Before I have time to worry about it, Janni's phone rings. “Hello?”

“Char, it's Janni. Looks like Dad's got a bad gallbladder. They're going to keep him sedated tonight so his pain is minimal. Then they're going to do laparoscopic surgery tomorrow. They think everything will be fine.”

“Oh, poor Dad. How's Mom holding up?”

“She's doing fine. Hasn't said any more about him trying to kill her, so that's good.” Janni stretches.

“Are you coming back soon?”

“Yeah. Dad needs to sleep, and I think Mom does too.”

“So does their daughter, meaning you.”

Janni chuckles. “Guess I do at that. Everything okay there?”

“Yeah, it's fine. The kids are still packing. Must be all that clean laun-dry. They just don't know how to handle it.”

Janni lets out a laugh. “I think you're right. Give them the scoop on Dad, will ya?”

“Sure thing.”

“We'll hurry home to tell them good-bye.”

“Sounds good. See you in a few.”

We hang up, and I let the kids know what's going on. By the time they finish packing, Daniel, Janni, and Mom all burst through the front door.

We gather in the family room and talk a little longer about Dad. The kids decide to stop by the hospital on their way out of town. Soon hugs and kisses are flying around, and we're waving good-bye.

Janni closes the door after them and turns to Stephanie. “Now, don't think just because they're gone that you have to leave. You're welcome to stay here as long as you need. You've been a tremendous help around here. Besides, I'd enjoy the company.”

“Even if I got the job at the coffeehouse, you'd let me stay here awhile?”

“Absolutely.” Janni starts to walk around, then turns back to her. “Why? Did you get it?”

Steph grins from ear to ear. “Yeah.”

“Well, congratulations!” Janni pulls her into a hug, and Steph looks at me over Janni's shoulder.

I wink at her.

“In fact, I need to go there right now. We're going to talk about schedules and all that. They just called me a little bit ago on my cell phone.”

“That's great. You go on over. I think we're all going to rest awhile.” Janni looks so tired. I want to help her, but here I sit with my bruised ankle propped on a table. I'm thankful Stephanie is such a helpful per-son. Could Janni really be her mother?

“Boy, it worked out nice that we didn't have to work on the sap today, didn't it?”

“You'd better get that leg back up. It still looks beat-up.” Janni stuffs a pillow under my ankle on the coffee table. “Yes, I'm glad we didn't have enough sap, what with Dad's situation and all. Luckily, spring break for our high school starts tomorrow, so some of the teens from church are coming to help out.”

“That's great. I was worried about how we were going to do this. The good news is the weather is cooperating. The bad news is we're not getting as much sap.”

“All we can do is what we can do.” Janni picks up a newspaper and starts fanning her red face.

“Hot flash?”

She sighs. “I don't know what it is, but I'm sick of it.” She fans harder. “It's like I can't get any relief, and it's driving me crazy.”

Something tells me things are just beginning to heat up.

The next morning Stephanie takes care of the farm
animals. Janni gets the church kids and a couple of adult friends collecting more sap, and I prepare a lunch of sloppy joes in the Crock-Pot for the syrup workers. Then we head over to the hospital with a half hour to spare before Dad's surgery.

“Now, Milton, you be careful, you hear me?” Mom says, loud enough for the entire hospital to hear.

He pats her hand. “I hear ya, Viney. Now, don't you worry. I'll be fine.”

A tear slips down her cheek, and my heart turns to liquid. Mom has a hard crust around her heart, but underneath it all, she's very tender.

“Does this mean you're not mad at me anymore?” Dad dares to ask.

“It means I forgive you for trying to hurt me, Milton.” She whips out a hankie that was tucked under the neck yoke of her dress and wipes her nose.

“Okay, Mr. Haverford, guess it's your turn,” a nurse says as she walks into the room with a couple of orderlies. They get to work on gathering up the essentials while Mom, Janni, and I step into the hallway.

“You can go down to the waiting room and help yourselves to cof-fee and tea,” the nurse says. “He'll be back before you know it.” She pats Mom's arm and gives her a warm smile. We all kiss Dad good-bye, then watch as they wheel his gurney down the hallway and finally disappear into the elevator.

The three of us shuffle into the waiting room. Though we know this isn't a serious operation, it's never fun to see someone you care about go through something uncomfortable. Especially at Dad's age.

The sights and smells of hospitals have always made me queasy. No idea why. I can't even stand to watch hospital movies on TV. They all upset me. 'Course, I can get upset over a hangnail.

After I skim through twenty-some magazines and down about ten cups of horrible coffee, the doctor comes in and tells us Daddy is going to be fine. The surgery was a great success. Mom seems to hold her breath until she hears that “Dad's all right” part, then she falls slightly against me as though the weight of the day has finally bowled her over.

We thank the doctor. I turn to Mom and give her a squeeze.

She wipes away her tears. “I've never seen your dad sick in his life—well, other than that time he got sick from eating too many green apples.”

Gathering our things, we head for the elevator to grab some lunch in the cafeteria. We'll stay long enough to eat and peek in on Daddy.

“I just can't tell you how relieved I am,” Mom says between bites of her sandwich. “Though he was in no real danger, you never know when you get our age.”

“That's why you shouldn't spend your time fighting, Mom,” Janni says, matter-of-factly.

“We weren't fighting. He was trying—”

Janni holds up her hand. “I don't want to go there right now,” she says in no uncertain terms.

It's starting to scare me how much she's becoming like our mother. But let the Heavens rejoice, her firm words stop Mom in her tracks. She says no more and goes back to her sandwich.

“We'll keep Dad at our house for a few days to help care for him, then we'll move you both back home.” Janni's words leave no room for discussion.

Mom says nothing, but she's tearing into her sandwich like nobody's business.

Once lunch is over, we visit with Daddy a few minutes. He's so groggy from the whole ordeal, we decide to leave for now and come back later. After pushing the button for the elevator, we chat a moment or two and wait for the doors to open. When the doors part, lo and behold, off steps Gertrude Becker.

My heart freezes in my throat. One look at Mom's face, and I want to scream for the paramedics.

Mom forces a rigid fist on her hip and stares the woman down. “Gertie Becker, what are you doing here?”

Gertie pats her pink hair and smiles. “I came over as soon as I heard, Viney. Is he all right?”

Mom looks as though she could spit nails. We have to do something, and we have to do it fast.

“So kind of you to visit, Mrs. Becker,” I say, pulling on her arm, to get her back into the elevator with us. “Daddy's sleeping and not accept-ing visitors just now.”

“Oh dear, I didn't mean to bother anyone. Just wanted to make sure you all were doing okay.”

“We're doing just fine,” Mom says, nose pointed toward the ceiling.

A few tense moments follow as we ride the elevator, then step out when it reaches the first floor—all of us except for Mom.

“I've changed my mind, girls. I'm going to stay with your father. I'll see you when you come back tonight.” Mom waves good-bye until the elevator doors close.

Mrs. Becker blinks, then smiles at us. “Well, you girls have a wonderful day,” she says, already making her way outside to her car, no doubt none the wiser.

Once we're inside Janni's car, we lean our heads back and sigh. “Boy, that was a close one,” Janni says.

“I know.”

Janni pulls out into the traffic. “I just hope Dad doesn't pay for it.”

twenty

“ Well, I 'll bet if Gertie fixed you something to
eat, you'd eat it.” Mom's fists are locked on her hips, and she's staring Dad down. Dad's barely been home an hour and Mom's already on him like butter on waffles.

“I've had two bowls of soup and a small piece of blueberry pie, Viney. Any normal person would be full by now.” Dad sighs and leans back into his pillow on the sofa, his makeshift bed for now. Mom wouldn't hear of him climbing the stairs.

“Come on, Mom,” Janni says, pulling on her arm, “I could use some help in the kitchen.” Daniel's busy with the workers down at the Sugar Shack.

Though I'm no longer hobbling, I'm slower these days, whether from my ankle injury or my visit here in Mayberry, I don't know. I fol-low Mom and Janni into the kitchen.

“You've got to stop hounding him, Mom. You're driving him crazy.” Janni pulls clean plates from the dishwasher and stacks them back in the cabinet. We help her put the other things away.

“Well, I'm just trying to take care of him. And doing a much better job than what he was doing for me, I can tell you.” Mom throws the silverware into the drawer.

“Hey, go easy on those,” Janni says.

“Besides, Mom, you'd better be good to him. Men don't like to be bossed, and you don't want Gertie smooth-talking him.”

A giggle escapes me, but the moment I lock eyes with my mom, I wish I hadn't teased her. I'm beginning to understand how that whole mothers-eat-their-young thing happens.

“Listen, Mom, why don't you take a nap? Char and I can finish up here.” Janni saves my life once again.

“I'm too keyed up to sleep. I'll go down and help with the syrup.”

Once she leaves the room, Janni looks at me and chuckles softly. “You're gonna get us both killed.”

After I manage to sneak a couple of cookies,
Janni and I head over to the Sugar Shack to help out with the sap process. Smoke curls from the chimney, misting sweet scents into the air and evoking childhood memories. I'd forgotten this part of being home. The sights and smells from the sap. The family working together to accomplish a sweet goal.

With my first step inside, my shoes stick to the floor where sap has spilled. Making the most of it, I tell myself I'm a star at Hollywood's Walk of Fame before slogging over to the evaporator. I relieve the kid on duty watching the temperature. I'm the official temperature-watcher-person in our family. Daddy says I have a knack with the hydrometer, knowing when the syrup is just the right consistency.

I haven't talked to Russ since Sunday night. He must be really busy at work. At least, I hope that's it.

Janni relieves the kid in the canning room and starts bottling the syrup. Two kids still work beside me, watching the filtering and finishing pans. Mom decided she was tired after all, so she's gone back to the house to rest. Janni gets a little reprieve. She's struggling with all this family togetherness in her house, I think.

The steady rhythm of shoving wood into the fire, the crackling sound of snapping wood, the smell of smoke, the hum of voices talking here and there, I love it all. It's hard work, to be sure, but there's something soothing about it.

Just then my cell phone rings, jarring me from my comfort zone.

“Hello?”

“It's Peter. Just wanted to let you know that the Jacobs's business sold.”

“Oh, that's fabulous!” I squeal, causing everyone to stop and look at me. “Did you sell it? That's a great commission!”

“Yeah, I did. It's pending financing, of course, but these folks will have no problem swinging the deal.”

“You're on a roll since I left. Maybe I should go away more often,” I tease.

“I don't think so.” His voice takes a serious turn, and I'm not sure I like the sound of it. “Listen, Charlene, we need to talk.”

“Is something wrong?” The temperature level is almost where it needs to be, seven degrees above boiling, or 219 degrees, so I keep my eyes fixed on the thermometer.

“No, nothing's wrong. Things are going along well. I'm making decent money. You being gone so much has made me do a lot of thinking.”

I gulp here. Something in the tone of his voice makes me very ner-vous. Peter isn't one to get serious about anything. That's one thing that makes me comfortable with him. I don't have to worry about a heavy relationship or talking deep. We keep things on a surface level and have fun, never allowing the big stuff to crowd us.