Read Ready or Not (Aggie's Inheritance) Online
Authors: Chautona Havig
Aggie says:
WAY… he was bouncing like Tigger on his tail, while the rest of the kids were snug in their beds. And the diapers that followed…
Tina says:
tee hee…
Aggie says:
Listen you; I know where you live, and I will come and find you…
Tina says:
Like you dare leave the house for that long. Face it Aggie m
’
dear; I
’
m perfectly safe to enjoy your maternal escapades from this safe distance.
Aggie says:
I
’
d love to tell you what I think about those escapades, but I hear a late night marauder wandering the hallway. I
’
m guessing Cari has finally discovered Ellie
’
s candy stash. I
’
ll bet she thinks she can snag some while Ellie sleeps. Bonsoir, my friend. I go to stop the natives from their plundering!
Tina says:
Poofs then!
Aggie says:
Poofs!
Along with the Hits
Saturday, March 2nd
Sarge
’
s off-key bugle sounded the alarm promptly at six a.m. Aggie, through the thick fog of interrupted sleep, and determined not to allow another day of early morning chaos, jumped up, slammed her fist on Sarge
’
s
“
head
”
and extricated herself from the tentacles of her covers. Without wasting time searching for her slippers, she tripped over the mountain of laundry that covered the hamper outside her door, creating a short trail behind her. She raced down the hallway, throwing doors open and calling,
“
Up and at
‘
em! We
’
re not going to be late today. Every child on their bus and on time. Get up, get up, get up!
”
She ran downstairs and turned on the TV to find out the day
’
s forecast on the morning news. Channel after channel passed with a veritable smorgasbord of cartoon offerings. From
Power Puppies
to
Flutterby Days
, she had her choice of insipid and mind-numbing animation.
“
Arrrrrrrrrggggghhhh!! I
forgot
! How could I
forget
?
”
Sighing, she jabbed the power button on the remote and dragged herself back up the stairs calling,
“
Back to bed everyone, it
’
s Saturday, and I need my beauty sleep.
”
Laird stuck his head out the door and said,
“
But, Aunt Aggie, you are beautiful enough as you are!
”
The boy
’
s impish grin wasn
’
t lost on Aggie.
“
Who said anything about physical looks, bud? I am talking about beauty of temper. Go back to
sleep
.
”
Once again, she scaled Mt. Washmore to enter her room and crawled back into bed. Aggie saw Ian
’
s nearly finished bottle on her night table and sighed in relief. She hadn
’
t woken the baby up with her maniacal shouts. Sleep consumed her, but much too soon, Ian
’
s good morning coos beckoned her from his room. Almost immediately, infant giggles rang through the hallway, and she heard Vannie call,
“
I
’
ll play with him, Aunt Aggie, and you sleep a bit more. Mama always…
”
Aggie heard a sniff as her young niece, too old for her years, tried to stifle her tears while she deftly changed the baby
’
s diaper and descended the stairs.
She flung an arm over her eyes to shield them from the sunlight. In books, sunlight supposedly streamed gently through the curtains, illuminating the room with a warm glow. For Aggie, the sun blasted her face like a searchlight, blinding her with its sharp glare. Torn between the desire to comfort her niece and giving the girl space to grieve, she chose the latter. Dejected, she rolled out of bed, grabbed the last of the clothes peeking from her still unpacked suitcases, and moved toward the shower. After a day like the previous one, a shower was no longer optional.
Moments later, her
“
I
’
m overwhelmed
”
hymn wavered weakly from the depths of steam billowing from her half-closed bathroom door. Those who knew Aggie well could determine the state of her spirit by the songs she chose to sing. Some hymns were triumphant and cheerful; others she chose to bolster her spirits.
“
My faith looks up to Thee…
”
Aggie always sang the dear old hymn when she felt weak or fearful. Usually, by the end of the hymn, her voice rang out strong and sure. Aggie learned the habit of singing hymns as prayerful worship in the fifth grade, and years of singing had so ingrained the habit that her hymns became heartfelt prayers in times of rejoicing or distress.
“
O
,
bear me safe above, a
raannsoommed soouuulll.
”
Yes, Aggie was now ready to greet the day.
* * *
Aggie dashed to answer the doorbell, arms full of laundry and dropping socks and stray towels in her wake. Doris Gantry stood at the door, laden with plastic grocery sacks.
“
I noticed the fridge was looking kind of sparse in the raw materials department, so I picked up a few things while I did my shopping this morning.
”
Forcing her lower jaw to reconnect with the upper, Aggie stepped back, calling for Tavish and Laird to come help bring the bags into the kitchen. Doris watched as Aggie struggled downstairs to the basement with her laundry burden.
“
Laird, honey, you boys put the refrigerated things in the fridge. If it
’
s frozen solid, should be, or can be, put it in the freezer.
”
Before she could return for a second load of clothes, the children filed downstairs, their arms full of dirty laundry. Doris shooed Aggie upstairs with strict instructions to stay out of her way.
“
But send Vannie down in a few hours with some water and a sandwich please. I think I
’
m going to get hungry.
”
Her protest died on her lips as the phone rang. Shaking her head as she thundered back upstairs, Aggie snatched up the kitchen phone with a breathless,
“
Hello?
”
“
Agathena, the proper way to answer a telephone is to let the caller know who is speaking. You must provide a proper example for the children.
”
“
Well, I
--
”
her heart sank as Geraldine Stuart cut her off.
“
Do not interrupt me, young lady. I
’
d like to speak to each of the children.
”
Aggie, eager to get the children
’
s grandmother appeased and off the phone, grabbed Tavish as he walked by with another armload of clothing and swapped clothing for telephone.
“
It
’
s your grandmother.
”
She tossed the clothing to the foot of the basement stairs, feeling foolish that she hadn
’
t thought of that idea earlier.
“
Guys, your grandmother is on the phone and wants to speak to you. Tavish is talking to her now.
”
Jumping out of the doorway, she fully expected the children to stampede to the phone as she remembered doing when she was young. All she heard, however, were a few nervous shuffles and stage whispers of,
“
You first,
”
followed by,
“
No, you go!
”
Shocked at their reticence, Aggie glanced anxiously at Tavish. Tears streamed down the young boy
’
s face. He shook
--
with either rage or fear
--
which one, she could only guess. In a swift move, Aggie snatched the phone from Tavish
’
s hand, gave his shoulder a squeeze, and listened as Geraldine continued her lecture. At the first pause for breath, she pounced.
“
Geraldine, this is Aggie.
”
“
I was speaking to my grandson, Agathena, and I don
’
t appreciate being interrupted. I was surprised that you didn
’
t send Vanora to the phone first. She
is
the eldest
--
”
“
Mrs. Stuart! I
’
ve taken the phone from Tavish because he is visibly distraught. The other children are busy, so I
’
m afraid you
’
ll have to speak to them some other time.
”
“
I do not think you understand me, Agathena Milliken. I am the children
’
s grandmother, and according to the law, I have the right to visit with them anytime I please. Now
--
”
Aggie interrupted for the last time.
“
Mrs. Stuart. Your so-called right to have visits with the children does not extend to unsupervised conversations that upset them.
”
For the next twenty minutes, she stared at the phone in her hand waiting for the irate voice to cease. She couldn
’
t bring herself to hang up on an older woman, but neither was she willing to listen to the continuing tirade. When she heard Geraldine shouting her name, Aggie spoke.
“
I
’
m still here, Mrs. Stuart. Will there be anything else?
”