Ready or Not (Aggie's Inheritance) (82 page)

Aggie says:
I
’
ll strive for at least one of those! See you Saturday

Landry
’
s Lady says:
Saturday it is!

Aggie says:
Bye!

Landry
’
s Lady says:
Bye, Aggie.

The Home Stretch

Saturday, July 27
^th

For the first time in a long time, Aggie awoke after a full night
’
s sleep, completely refreshed, and without the aid of an alarm clock or a child posing as one. The recent rains had cooled the temperature, as she
’
d slept through her reaction, but now the heat combined with the increased moisture meant long, hot, muggy days. Feeling sinfully decadent, Aggie lay in bed and considered her wardrobe options. As much as she wanted to wear her tiered gauze skirt and coordinating blouse for comfort
’
s sake, they were tackling the living room, and that meant sturdy clothes. She was thoroughly sick of her faded, ugly, old clothes.

On a brighter note, Tina
’
s help would mean they finished the room that much quicker. She tugged on an old cargo skirt and a faded Rockland Warriors t-shirt, pulled her hair into a ponytail, and tied tennis shoes onto her feet. Oh, how she wanted to wear flip-flops, sandals, or go barefooted and free. However, the last thing she needed right now was another nail puncture.

The house was too quiet for comfort. No children
’
s squeals of pain, delight, or impishness filled the air; there were no hammer or drill sounds. She didn
’
t even hear the clackety-clack and squish of the paint roller. The dishwasher, however, hummed merrily as if to announce that something was doing its job, even if she wasn
’
t.

“
Come out; come out, wherever you are!
”

Luke
’
s head peeked around the corner of the downstairs bathroom and he grinned.
“
Mornin
’
, Mibs. I was just taking some measurements.
”

“
Where are the children? Where
’
s Tina?
”

“
She took them to town for breakfast.
”

Aggie didn
’
t bother to comment.
“
Want some coffee?
”

Taking Luke
’
s nod as a yes, Aggie went into the kitchen to make her morning cup of coffee. She poured a cup for Luke from the little coffee pot that was set on a timer each night and then scooped French Vanilla coffee mix into her cup. The process took a fraction of the time it once had, and as she stood stirring her cup, Aggie realized that the difference was a clean, orderly kitchen with enough room for everything she needed. Her hands slid over the cool, stone countertops, and her heart swelled as she marveled, once again, that they were hers. One finger traced the pattern in the wood around a drawer front, as she stood there lost in thought.

“
You ok, Aggie?
”

She nodded, blinking back tears.
“
It
’
s
--
”
Well, talking wasn
’
t going to work. Aggie felt ridiculous standing in her kitchen almost crying over how wonderful it was.

“
You don
’
t look ok. Is something wrong?
”
She shook her head.
“
Are you still tired? You could rest on the couch if
--
”

“
I
’
m fine.
”
Her words were punctuated with two tears splashing on the countertop.

“
Tears usually don
’
t equal fine.
”
He took her cup, grabbed his, and nudged her toward the living room.
“
Let
’
s get you out of here.
”

Hands gripping the countertop, Aggie refused to budge.
“
I don
’
t want out of here.
”

“
Ok, you don
’
t want to leave. What do you want?
”

With a quick brush to erase the tears, Aggie looked up at him.
“
To say thank you again. I love this kitchen. I love coming in here and trying to make something edible. Even if I fail, it isn
’
t a chore to clean it up like it used to be. I like cleaning the cabinet faces and feeling the different designs you put into them.
”
She swallowed hard as her voice broke again.
“
I still can
’
t believe it
’
s mine sometimes.
”

After a minute or two, Luke put down his half-empty coffee cup and leaned across the island to meet her eyes.
“
That is one of the, if not
the
best thing anyone has ever said to me. I
’
m glad you like it, Aggie. I w
--
”
He cut himself off and paused for a moment.
“
Now, let
’
s see if we can do the same for that bathroom.
”

“
I thought we were doing the living room next.
”

“
Well, I keep thinking it should be last, so we don
’
t scratch the floor dragging stuff through the house.
”

“
Bathroom it is. Lead on, John Henry.
”
Aggie shrugged at his questioning look.
“
It
’
s something my dad always says.
”

As she glanced around the dingy and dilapidated bathroom, Aggie saw herself in the mirror and frowned at her reflection in the cracked and smudged glass. Luke stepped outside the door, and Aggie, thinking he
’
d gone, grumbled at her reflection.
“
I look about as drab and ratty as this bathroom.
”

A moment later, Luke filled the doorway, pointing to the corner next to the toilet.
“
There
’
s room there for a shower. I don
’
t know why they have all those cupboards there when there is a large linen closet outside the door. I
’
d run a counter along that wall,
”
he pointed to their right,
“
with a nice sink and cabinet, a new mirror above it, and,
”
he jerked his thumb to the opposite wall,
“
tear out the cupboards for a shower. It
’
d be nice to have a shower downstairs for when the children come in covered in mud.
”

“
Great idea. I
’
ve always wondered why there wasn
’
t a shower in here.
”

Luke offered to drive Aggie to the home improvement warehouse to choose cabinetry, shower stall, new toilet, and flooring, but she shook her head.
“
I think I
’
ll start stripping wallpaper from the library. You know what
’
ll match in here. Just choose something appropriate.
”

With list in hand, Luke fished his keys out of his pocket and sauntered through the front door. Seconds later, Aggie heard the door slam again and peeked around the corner. There, just a few feet inside the small foyer, he stood, hands settled loosely on his hips and with something to say. She leaned against the doorjamb, waiting for him to speak, wondering if she shouldn
’
t just agree to go along for the ride. As she stepped from the bathroom to grab her purse and insist they go, Luke raised his eyes to meet hers.

“
For what it
’
s worth, I
’
ve never seen you looking drab or ratty.
”
He turned as if to leave and then added almost inaudibly,
“
I wouldn
’
t change a thing.
”

As his truck rolled down the street and onto the highway, Aggie jogged upstairs for another look at herself. Her latent insecure side mocked her with accusations of vanity and pride, while her practical side nodded with satisfaction. Luke was right. Her face was clean and unblemished, her hair healthy, and she was in the best physical shape of her life. So, her clothes were a bit worn and faded; why shouldn
’
t they be? She
’
d been wearing them, doing hard work, for weeks. It
’
d end soon and then she
’
d be able to wear something a little more attractive.

Some
time later, Luke found her singing as she peeled several layers of hideous flocked wallpaper from the library walls. He stood in the bathroom, sledgehammer ready, and listened to the words of the hymn before he took the first swing.
“‘
--
Lay your gifts at His feet; ever strive to keep sweet. Let the beauty of Jesus be seen in you.
’”

* * *

Tina
’
s presence cut Aggie
’
s workload in half. While Aggie stripped wallpaper, scrubbed and primed said walls, and then drove to the store to choose paint, Tina and the children played games, made lunch, cleaned upstairs, took a walk, and finally made dinner and cleaned up the mess. With the upcoming housewarming party, Luke and Aggie felt the pressure to work long hours, and as quickly as possible, to finish as much of the house as they could. The children, Tina, Ellene, and William were roasting marshmallows over the grill and singing campfire songs by the time Aggie returned with the paint for the library.