Heart and Home (23 page)

What was I thinking, letting
myself get involved with him? I spent the better part of my life fighting to
get out of that town only to feel myself being lured back in like a trout by a
mealworm. It might have been different had it come with less
complications—maybe with a guy who wasn’t worth coming back for, but for
the first time I was starting to realize how lonely my world had become. Becky
was married, had a family already. Even Amber Williams was married with
children. None of my friends in the city wanted families, and the ones who
already had them often lost them to the business before too long.

I laid in the dark and
stared at the ceiling for so long that it felt as if the night would never end.
I actually found myself wishing that my mother would come and haunt me, because
at least then she would be there to guide and comfort me during one of the most
difficult times I had ever known. I punched my pillow and turned onto my side,
but it seemed like only minutes later that the alarm sounded.

I threw the blankets aside
with a frustrated huff and marched into the bathroom. Ducking under the shower,
I managed to stand beneath the hot stream through three full tanks of water and
then finished off half a pot of coffee before we left for church.

Chapter Twenty-Two

I spotted Troy’s truck in
the church parking lot and felt some of the heaviness lift away from my tired
soul. There was a feeling of nostalgia as we followed the stream of churchgoers
in through the social-hall entrance and then sauntered into the chapel. Troy
and his mother were seated on the left side about halfway back and as soon as
he spotted us, he waved us over to sit with them.

I slid into the pew beside
him and he closed the space between us whispering, “You look beautiful.”

“I don’t know how I managed
that,” I said. “I didn’t sleep a wink last night.”

“Hello, Janice,” his mother
leaned out to smile thoughtfully at me, “Hank.” I noted her walker in the aisle
and wondered again about her condition. I’d rarely seen her without the
wheelchair in the two weeks I’d been in town.

“Good morning, Mrs. Kepner.”

“Please, call me Lottie,
dear.”

Dad leaned out to greet her
with a wave.

“I baked you some brownies
to take home with you, Janice,” she announced. “Troy did you put them in your
truck this morning before we left?”

“Yes, ma’am, right on top of
the crock of soup and next to the loaf of banana bread,” he rolled his eyes
toward me. “She says it’s just brownies, but she’s really sending you home with
a week’s worth of groceries.”

“Don’t exaggerate, Troy,”
she scolded. “It’s just a few things from home. I bet it’s impossible to find a
good home cooked meal in that city.”

“Thank you, Lottie.” I
ignored Troy’s playful wink and nudge which obviously referred back to our
conversation about her trying to fatten me up. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“It was my pleasure, dear,”
she said.

Just as I was sinking into
the comfort of their company and waiting for Pastor Crane to step up the pulpit
and start the service, I felt the eyes on us, on Troy and me especially, and a
disturbed tingle traced the length of my spine. The first pair of eyes I met
belonged to Amber Williams, cold and deliberate in her disbelief that the
rumors she heard about us were in fact true. There were others, too, some I
noticed making eye contact with me before leaning into their companion to
whisper behind their hand.

“I swear, it’s like living
in a Motown song about grapevines,” I muttered. “And they wonder why people
like me never want to come back here.”

“Hmm?” Troy leaned in and
grinned. “Would it make you feel any better if I told you all the dirty secrets
you’ve missed out on over the years?”

I judged his grin to mean
there was far more than I could even imagine and said, “Maybe.”

“Well, for starters, Mr.
McNaulty’s been wearing a toupee since 1988,” he murmured, “and your old friend
Amber, well, let’s just say there’s a lot of speculation about whether or not
all three of those kids belong to her husband.” He must have sensed that
particular tidbit would assuage me.

Wide-eyed, I moved to the
side to look at him in disbelief, and then toward Amber, who realizing we’d
been talking about her huffed forward in her seat. “That does make me feel
better, even if that’s just wrong, wrong, wrong.”

Sitting beside Troy during
church made focusing on the actual sermon impossible. When he wasn’t writing
little notes and drawing pictures on the back of the “Tell a Friend” cards, he
was whispering town secrets to me, much to his mother’s dismay. It took
everything in him to keep from crying out when she elbowed him in the ribcage
and I vaguely remembered the trouble he’d often caused at church functions when
we were kids.

As we were walking out into
the parking lot after service, I couldn’t help but stifle my laughter when
Lottie started to lecture him about there most certainly being a hell, and one
day he was going to find himself in it if he didn’t straighten up and show the
Lord some respect.

The Sunday crowd at Katy’s
Diner was packed wall to wall with the church folks for brunch. Katy’s sister,
Hannah, showed us to a booth near the back, and the four of us tucked into it.
The crowd was rowdy, but in a positive way, the closeness of friends and family
gathering together to enjoy a meal made me feel grateful that I was with Dad,
Troy and Lottie. I wished my mom was there too. In fact, I could almost hear
her playfully ganging up on Troy with Lottie about misbehaving in church.

“Well now this is real nice,
isn’t it?” Dad noted.

“It is nice,” Lottie agreed.
“We don’t go out much after church, do we, Troy?”

“No, ma’am, we don’t.”

“We should do this more
often,” she looked at me when she said this. “The next time you come home for
the weekend.” There seemed to be a hint of curiosity in her tone, as though she
were asking if I had any idea when that might be, and not just for her own
sake, but for Troy’s as well.

“Absolutely,” I looked
across the table into Troy’s eyes, the power they had over me even there in a
crowd of people felt so strong. I couldn’t even imagine that he knew just how I
felt, and maybe that was for the better. “With the holidays coming up, I’m sure
I’ll be spending quite a bit of time here.” Though I still didn’t know how I
was going to juggle that with my work schedule.

“I hope so,” Troy’s voice
was soft, as though those words were meant for me alone.

“Hi Troy, Mrs. Kepner,” I
looked up to find Amber just inches from the table with a toddler perched on
her hip. “I was so surprised to see you at church this morning, Janice. I
didn’t realize you were even still in town. I figured you’d be on the freeway
back to the city last week.”

There was a sour taste
ebbing at the back of my throat as I forced a smile, “I had a few loose ends to
tie up with my mom, so I decided to stick around and spend some time with Becky
and Troy.”

“How sweet,” her smile
stretched to the limit, I wondered if her face hurt. “I so hoped you’d call if
you were still in town. I was looking forward to playing catch up with you.”

“Maybe another time,” I
found myself nodding for no reason.

“Good! I’m gonna hold you to
that.”

“Great,” I hoped the sarcasm
wasn’t too evident in my tone.

As she sashayed away from
the table, I was surprised to hear Lottie cluck her tongue against the roof of
her mouth before announcing, “That girl has been nothing but trouble since she
was old enough to walk.”

“Do I need to save you a
seat in Hell, Mom?” Troy teased, evoking another sharp nudge in the ribs from
her elbow.

Lunch went smoothly, and as
we parted ways with Troy and Lottie, I promised Troy I’d meet him at his
apartment to say goodbye as soon as I finished up at Becky’s. I thought about
leaving nonstop the night before, but with only hours left before I had to
drive back to the city and the life that felt altogether good enough until I’d
set foot back in Sonesville, it just didn’t seem real. It didn’t really feel
like I was going to kiss Troy goodbye and not be able to open my door the next
afternoon just in time for lunch with him.

After the bizarre incident
on Friday with my suitcase and clothing, I hadn’t bothered to repack, so as
soon as Dad and I got home I hiked upstairs and started to repack my suitcase.
It took me almost half an hour to get everything resituated perfectly, and then
I scanned the room to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything. Bed made, all of
my personal belongings packed, I started for the door but the knob wouldn’t
turn in my hand. I pulled on it thinking maybe it was stuck, but neither the
knob nor door would budge. A moment of panic seized me as an almost
claustrophobic fear surged through me.
 

“Come on,” I wiggled the
knob again, but it was stuck fast. “What the hell?” I pushed against the wood,
but it barely even buckled against my weight. “Mother, if this is you, it isn’t
funny.” I looked around the room behind me. “You can’t lock me in my bedroom
like I’m twelve years old.” Frustrated, I leaned into the door and tilted my
head back. “Is this your way of keeping me here?” Suddenly all of the signs fell
into place. The writing on the mirror: STAY… her appearance at the top of the
stairs the night Troy first asked me out, the mysterious unpacking of my
suitcase.
  

She was obviously trying to
convince me not to return to the city, but why? Was something going to happen
to my dad that I’d need to be there for, or was it her way of reaching out to
answer my need for comfort and guidance?

“If you’re not going to talk
to me, open the door.” I said firmly. “I am going back to Pittsburgh today and
there is nothing you can do to stop me.” I waited for a second and then added
with a defiant flare, “I’ll climb out the window.”

The lock on the door
released and clicked open, drawing forward just enough on its own to assure me
that there was definitely something strange going on.

“Thank you,” I nodded at the
door, and passed through it, leaving it open behind me.

I dragged my bag down the
stairs. Dad sat at the kitchen table leafing through the Sunday paper, his
glasses perched on the end of his nose. He barely looked up when he asked,
“What the hell was all the racket up there?”

“Oh, nothing.” No sense
telling him the truth if he wasn’t going to believe me. “My suitcase was a
little awkward that’s all.”

“Well here,” he pushed away
from the table. “Why didn’t you say something, you ninny?” He took the bag away
from me and carried it effortlessly through the house and out the front door.

I grabbed my purse and keys
and followed, stopping at the door to turn back to the house behind me. I drew
in a deep breath and held it for a minute. The last time I left the house was
almost eight years earlier, and she’d been there fussing over every detail. It
felt strange to not have her there seeing me off. I released the breath and
clutched my purse in my hand.

“I’ll be back for holidays,”
I told her. “Take care of Dad, okay.”

I didn’t know whether she
could hear me or not, but I didn’t care. Before I could start to get emotional,
I stepped outside and walked down to my car. Dad waited at the trunk to load my
bag in. I unlocked it for him and then walked around to toss my purse into the
passenger seat.

“So you’ll be coming home on
weekends, I suppose.” He closed the trunk and sauntered toward me. He stuffed
his hands in his pockets and tried to avoid eye contact. He’d never been very
good at goodbyes

“I don’t really know, Dad,”
I admitted, crossing my arms against the cold. “I will do what I can to come
back as often as possible. I will definitely be home for Thanksgiving, but
before that, it’s hard to say.”

“Well, your room is always
here, whenever you need it.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Leaning in, he gave me an
awkward squeeze, and stepped back just as quickly. “Behave and stay safe.”

“Call me if you need
anything. I mean it.” I wagged a finger at him. “I love you, Dad.”

“Love you.”

I watched him in the
rearview mirror standing on the sidewalk while I drove away. As I made the
right turn into the side street that led to Main Street, I noticed he lingered
there with his hands in his pockets and a lost look about him. A part of me
worried that maybe he wouldn’t really be okay in that big old house all alone.
He hadn’t been apart from my mom for more than a couple of days in thirty
years, and though I hadn’t noticed any strange depression or worrisome
behavior, I couldn’t help feeling like I was going to wind up regretting my
choice to leave him alone.

A million bad scenarios
plagued my thoughts all the way to Becky’s, and I finally made a mental note to
ask both her and Troy to keep an eye on my dad while I was away. Becky was home
alone when I arrived, Marty having taken the boys to visit with his mom in
South Williamsport.

She seemed depressed when
she answered the door, and I was surprised she had foregone her contacts to
wear those red-framed, 1990’s talk-show hostess glasses.

“Come on in,” she stepped
aside and ushered me in. “Do you have time for coffee?”

“With as poorly as I slept
last night, coffee is probably a good idea.”

I followed her into the
kitchen and sat down at the table. She poured us both a cup and then took a
seat across from me. We were silent for a few minutes, almost as if we’d
returned to that uncomfortable place we’d been in before last Monday.

“Are you excited to be going
back?” She finally asked, holding her mug up close to her face and breathing in
the steam.

“I don’t know,” I looked
away. “This last week has made things confusing.”

“I’ll bet.”

“It was like living an
entire lifetime in a few days,” I realized, looking away. “And the fact that
Troy and I spent Friday night together…” I lingered on that word so she might
pick up my meaning before moving on, “Well, let’s just say that adds a whole
new layer of confusion to everything.”

“Aw, hun,” she reached
across the table and laid her hand over mine.