Going Through the Notions(74)

Joe’s dark eyes were full of his familiar good humor. “Call me Joe, please. And yes, it’s one of those mushroom endeavors.”

“Mushroom?”

“It starts off with, while I’m at it, I might as well . . .” He gestured to the bare walls. “And before you know it, this is where you end up.”

We all laughed.

“You didn’t want to restore the old floor?” Peter asked.

“I would have, but it was in such bad shape. And you know, it wasn’t original to the house anyway. In the days when these houses were built, the kitchens weren’t attached to the house for safety reasons. If the kitchen caught on fire, as they often did, it meant that the whole place didn’t go up. Where we’re sitting now used to be the walkway to the summer kitchen, which is long gone.”

I glanced down at the floor. It was lined with new plywood and dust-free. Joe had done a lot of work in a short period of time. Maybe there was a hint of light at the end of the tunnel that wasn’t an oncoming train.

And the fact that Peter was concerned about the historical preservation of the house made me like him all the more.

Joe leaned back in his chair, sipping appreciatively at his wine. “The cabinets were from the fifties. They weren’t worth refinishing either, although I saved what I could to use in the toolshed.”

I’d never liked the cabinets. I stroked Jasper’s head again. We even had room for an island in here, come to think of it, and perhaps some new lighting.

As Peter asked about the history of the house and Joe started on the long list of renovations we’d accomplished over the years, I watched Sarah as she listened to the conversation, never taking her eyes off Peter. He was almost a younger version of Joe, although I had to admit, even better looking. And I’d never seen her content not to be the star of the show with any guy she was dating. It couldn’t have been easy for him, coming here and facing all of us, but he was handling himself well and I gave him points for courage.

I murmured to her, “Should I ask Peter if he’d like to stay here tonight?” It was an offer I’d have naturally made to a guest, but I wasn’t about to put another foot wrong without checking first.

“Thanks, Mom,” she whispered back, “but he’s staying at the Four Foxes.”

I raised my eyebrows a fraction. The Four Foxes was not cheap, by any means. This young director must be doing all right for himself.

Peter whistled softly. “Sounds like you’ve done a lot of work here. But I warn you, sir—I mean, Joe—I’m no handyman.”

“Just an extra pair of hands is all I’m asking for.” Joe nodded at Sarah. “You can help, too, young lady.”

“Okay, Daddy.” Sarah smiled.

We chatted about the techniques of installing hardwood floors for a couple of minutes more before Joe finished the last of his wine and stood up. “Come on, Daisy. Time we left these young folks to talk.”

Joe and I went up to bed, hand in hand. We didn’t make love that night, but we slept together, and that was a start in the right direction.

*



“Peter evidently wasn’t getting his money’s worth out of his suite at the Four Foxes, because he was already back at our house again early the next morning. When I came downstairs, he was sitting with Sarah in the library, and they were deep in conversation.

I said “hello” quickly before I hurried out on my way to pick up Betty.

As I walked down the hallway, I overhead Peter say, “Your mom works on a Saturday?”

“She works all the time,” Sarah replied.

“I thought they were retired.”

“That’s what Daddy thought, too.”

I shut the front door quietly behind me. Sometimes a Great Notion wasn’t open to customers on Saturdays, only by appointment, but I often went in to catch up on prep work. I hadn’t told Sarah about going to Martha’s today, but the end result was the same. I was leaving the house.

The store was mine to do with as I wished—without the constraints of a school system dictating lesson plans or schedules. Joe let me have free rein, of course, as he had done for all of our married life.

Like teaching, each day was full of surprises. The store usually energized me and I never minded the hours I put in. But did Joe? Had I mistaken calm acceptance for underlying dissatisfaction?

I stopped at the diner for coffee. The early breakfast rush was over and the trolley car was almost empty. Carla waited on me, and as I paid her, I wrestled with myself as to whether I should say something or not. I tried not to judge people anymore. I always figured you needed to walk a few miles in their shoes first. But I couldn’t help myself.