For Keeps (Aggie's Inheritance) (37 page)

BOOK: For Keeps (Aggie's Inheritance)
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She agreed and helped him carry the rest of the supplies. When everything was ready for him to begin digging, Aggie, eyes full of uncertainty, tugged on his shirtsleeve to stop him.

Did I make the right decision? I have eight kids here! Two puppies is like adding more. Is that crazy?


Aw, Mibs. I think it was a great decision. A kid needs a dog
--
particularly an animal-loving kid like Tavish. It was a good move.


M’kay. If you say so. Feels crazy right now.


Your life is a bit crazy right now.

He shook his head.

Only you could ‘inherit’ eight kids who have never had the chicken pox.

She smiled.

Oh, I think lots of people could do
that
. No, only
I
, the only girl my age in the greater Rockland area who has not had the chicken pox
or
the shot, could inherit eight kids who also haven’t had it. That sounds more like an Aggieism.

 

 

Friday, September 5
th

 

By lunchtime Friday, Aggie was feeling confident. It seemed as if the older children had acquired immunity while at school
--
or that’s what she prayed was the case. P-mails had flooded heaven’s inbox that week, and they only had to make it through three more days of no new patients for the school schedule to be back on track. Throughout the afternoon, she grew more and more assured that the worst was behind them.

Vannie, paranoid about getting behind on her schoolwork, spent half of her time reading and doing homework in her room. Laird, on the other hand, took the work that Libby brought home for him, stuffed it on his shelf, and declared he’d do it on Saturday and Sunday nights. Aggie chose to ignore it. Tavish and Ellie managed to fly through the assignments given them and then stuffed them back in their backpacks and enjoyed their extended vacation without another thought.

She stared at her pantry trying to find something interesting for dinner.

Hey, Libby, do you think enchiladas would be bad for the kids?


Not at all, why?


I think I have the ingredients. I wanted something different. I’m going to try it.

Aggie grabbed the tube of defrosted ground beef from the fridge and snipped it open, squeezing every bit she could into a pan. Humming a few bars of a hymn she barely remembered, she concentrated on reading each part of her recipe from greasing the baking pans to opening the can of tomato sauce.

Once the meat was drained, the onions, garlic, and taco seasoning added, and simmering on the stove, Aggie pulled out a saucepan and dumped the tomato sauce in it. Had she managed to continue uninterrupted, everything would have sailed along like clockwork. Unfortunately, Vannie stepped into the kitchen looking as miserable as any almost thirteen year old ever has.


Aunt Aggie? I think
--”

Aggie turned and at the sight of Vannie’s face, dropped her spoon.

Oh, Vannie, no!


I’m sorry.


Oh, it’s not your fault. I just know how you were looking forward to starting school, and now…

Libby entered the kitchen to learn what the problem was, and wrapped a comforting arm around Vannie’s shoulder.

Why don’t you go upstairs and take a nice long tepid bath. Use that box of oatmeal bath salts. You’ll feel better. Then use a q-tip and dab a bit of the calamine on each spot. You’ll feel better.

The instructions felt so repetitive to Aggie that the young woman wanted to scream. Nothing, not even the tantalizing scent of spiced beef and corn tortillas seemed able to soothe her. Frustration mounted as she dreamed of adding oatmeal and calamine lotion to her dinner as a preventative measure. She read the recipe, grabbed spices, shook them in the sauce, stirred, added some sauce to the meat mixture, and started filling steamed tortillas from the microwave with the meat and lots of cheese. After the first few cracked as they dried under the ceiling fan, Aggie began ladling a little enchilada sauce on each one to keep them moist.


There. That should do it,

she muttered to herself as she shoved the baking dishes into the oven. However, her self-confidence shattered as she put away ingredients. The cinnamon, not an ingredient in her recipe, stood proudly on the counter, the lid off and waiting to be replaced. She swallowed hard.


Libby?

Luke’s mother came into the kitchen carrying Ian.

Smells wonderful.


Do
you think cinnamon in enchilada sauce
would
taste ok?

The woman’s forehead furrowed.

Well, I
--
I don’t know! It could be wonderful or
--”
Libby dipped her finger in the leftover sauce.

Mmm. That is good. If that’s any indication, I think it makes it yummy.


But I missed the cumin.


It tastes like… well, like Mexican. What’s in it?


Taco seasoning, garlic, onion, and the cinnamon instead of extra cumin like the recipe said.

Libby took another swipe at the pan and savored every bit of it, trying to taste it with a critical palate.

Well, forget the cumin, this is delicious.

She winked.

These’ll be your ‘famous’ enchiladas someday. People will beg to know your secret.

Luke, finished at his house nearby, entered the kitchen with a box of laminate flooring in his arms.

What secret?

Aggie dipped her finger in the sauce and held it up for him to taste.

What do you think?


Delicious. What is in there? It’s… a little exotic, but it’s good.


That’s the secret ingredient, son. I bet once they’re baked, those enchiladas will be some of the best we’ve ever had.


They’d be better with shredded beef, but I only had that ground beef.

With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, Luke shook his head and continued toward the basement.

Beef is beef. Give me beef, or give me chicken; I always say.

 

~*~*~*~

 

After dinner, Luke pulled Aggie aside and asked her to take a short walk down the road. As they strolled down the driveway, he seemed to struggle with finding the right words. At last, he stopped and waited for her to meet his gaze.

Mom is looking a little rundown. Do you think you and Tina can handle things if I insist she goes home?


Of course! She doesn’t have to stay at all!


Well, I know she wants to, but I’m worried about her getting too worn out. If you get this, she’s going to need to be here, and if she’s already sleep-deprived…

Unconsciously, Aggie checked her arms for spots.

I’m probably going to get it if Vannie did. They can’t go to school on Monday. Not with Vannie broken out. It’s a matter of days most likely. Maybe Kenzie later next week, but then why not wait until the following Monday? Oh, I don’t know. No matter what happens, they’re going to be behind, the new kid sticking out, and unfamiliar with everything.


They’ll pick up on your attitude, Mibs. If you see it as a horrible thing, they will too.


I wish I had listened to Zeke,

she moaned.


What did Uncle Zeke say about it?

Luke sounded confused.


Well, not for this, but when I didn’t have a way to get them to school if they missed the bus. He said I should home-school them and save the hassle. I think he meant for the rest of the semester, but maybe I should consider it for this semester and then put them in after Christmas.


Or not put them in at all.

Luke’s retort was surprisingly quick.


At all?


Why not? They’re going to spend the majority of their waking hours either on a bus or in class and definitely apart. Why not cut that down and give them more time together? They are such good friends as it is, why not capitalize on that?

She’d never considered home-schooling fulltime, but Aggie had to admit, there was a part of her that found it very appealing.

Well, after all those years preparing to be a teacher, it would be nice to actually do some of that teaching stuff.

She shook her head.

I don’t know. Is this a good time to make these kinds of decisions?


Why don’t you call your parents and see what they think? Maybe talk to Tina or William…


William would tell me it is a horrible idea and that I should let the professionals do their jobs.


Forgetting, of course,

Luke added with a smirk,

that you
are
one of those professionals.

Aggie giggled.

You’re right. That’s funny.

She kicked a stick out of her way and slid her eyes sideways.

Luke?


Hmm?


Is it bad that I want to do it more now that I realize that William will disapprove?

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