Story Broken Yet Rising

[kyrsyan]

Tease.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 7​

If anyone outside of the family had ever gotten a look at the house when Dad first inherited it, I suppose they would have called that part of the Musgrove family crazy. And they would be partially correct. Grief crazy anyway. Martin Musgrove had gone in that direction when he lost his wife and daughter in the car accident. Where all the stuff in the house came from after he started shoving it in places Dad could never tell me.

The few times Dad was asked he would say, “He was a collector of junk. Some of it was family junk. Some of it was junk from his wife’s family. Some of it was collectible junk. Then some of this is my own parents’ junk that isn’t just their junk but other family junk from my mother’s side. And a lot of this is your mother’s junk that would otherwise be taking up space in our house in Tampa. Some of this might even be your junk that your mother just doesn’t want to get rid of because you are growing up and haven’t taken responsibility for it yet. But all in all, it is just junk that once belonged to someone else that I’m now stuck deciding what to do with and that I just don’t have the time for.”

As you can tell, Dad wasn’t what you would call sentimental about what he considered “junk.” People yes. Memories yes. Even pictures. But not stuff. His OCD-way of doing things pretty much precluded that. I have just come to wonder that if that is completely true, why he didn’t just pitch a lot of this “stuff” when it got dropped in his lap … unless it was because of Mom. Of course, that isn’t always the s-word he used when talking about all the stuff and junk crowding out the oxygen in the Homeplace.

We should have done it years ago, but I was a kid and didn’t understand that too much stuff could be more burden than blessing. I’ve learned, but I’ve also learned how hard it is to get rid of stuff that is tied to people that you loved but aren’t around any longer, whether that was by choice or not. Take the storage tub I’d found in Mom’s craft supplies. I thought it was weird how it had been taped shut like it was being shipped first-class transatlantic to Siberia. Turns out Mom had hidden away all the stuff Dad was throwing away that had anything to do with Tessa. When I found it, I sighed and set it to the side, not exactly sure what to do with it at first. There were little outfits in there that Mom had sewn when Tessa was a baby. There were old academic awards. There were cards she’d made Dad and Mom when she was little, and cards she had purchased for them before she married and moved out. There was even the thank you card she’d sent them from her wedding. There were pictures of her that used to hang on the wall along with the rest of us. Her baby book was in there and other mementos like that. It had meant something to Mom, but it had also meant pain and it wasn’t a pain I wanted to carry. I scanned the pictures and homemade cards that night and put them in their own memory drive and I’ve put it in the safe with all the other memory drives. I took pictures of some of the other things, like the baby clothes Mom sewed, but I decided to take the box and give it to Tessa and let her decide what to do with it. I had enough pain of my own to carry, I wasn’t carrying what wasn’t mine to carry.

I knew I was likely to find things like that about other people up in the attic, really the third floor of the house, and I knew I was going to not know what to do with some of it. But cleaning needed to be done so I spent the remainder of the day taking boxes out of the attic, some of them all but falling apart in my hands and setting them on the porch to air out before taking them by dolly loads to the barn to stack in there. Some of it I didn’t bother trying to salvage. There were boxes of old paperback books that were little more than confetti from where the silverfish, bookworms, and dry rot had gotten to them and those I put straight into the burn barrel. There were boxes of mildewed and dry rotted curtains and clothes and things like that I did the same thing to.

When it got dark, and therefore dangerous to be going up and down the stairs, I quit for the night. There’s no electric on the third floor though I’ve since found it was just an issue of a bad breaker. Dad had always refused to spend the time and money to figure it out. I was actually happy with the progress I made despite there being a ton more to go. I figured I would be four or five more uninterrupted days emptying the entire floor out and then I would be able to use it to reorganize everything else. I already knew that I’d bring up all the folding tables and card tables that I’d found and set them up so that I could organize all the collectibles and other “stuff and junk” I was finding. I had a plan to sell what I could online after I’d found all the “sets” or duplicates and each kind of item and looked up what they were worth online. I think I have enough “plans” and “things to do” that it is going to take me years – probably until the twins are my age – so it isn’t like I’ll ever get shy of ways to spend my time.

It was getting really cold, even colder than it had that morning, and I knew I needed to shower and fix myself something to eat before the electricity went off. The power co-op was calling it rolling brown outs but what I called it the one time it happened while I was in the shower and all soaped up would have gotten me into some serious trouble had anyone in the family heard me, especially when the shampoo rolled into my eyes, and I had nothing to wash it out with. Guess who learned the hard way to keep five-gallon buckets of water in the kitchen and bathrooms … for just in case?

One of the important things that Dad had done when he inherited the house was to make sure all the fireplaces in the house worked and were inspected and cleaned every couple of years. There were four of them, all downstairs. There used to be more according to the old house plans but the one in the master bedroom and the ones upstairs had been closed off during the big renovation done by Martin Musgrove. Upstairs and in the Carriage Apartment, instead of fireplaces, there were wood stoves that sat in front of the bricked over openings. There was also a big, fancy wood stove in the master bedroom. The “chimney” part of the stoves hooked into the chimneys of the fireplaces below them. I’m not sure if those are still in working condition so when I get around to it, I need to find a professional to check them out. For now, it is enough to know that the four remaining downstairs fireplaces work and that Dad had them cleaned. They are also capped so nothing can fly in them and build nests. Yeah, Dad had that done when a bat flew in and then fell down the chimney before he had everything fixed. Not gonna record that particular incident. The air was blue with Dad’s comments and the stupid bat wound up stuck in my hair and Mitchell almost cut my braid to get it out until Mom came to my rescue. The one and only time I’ve ever lifted a hand in violence to a family member … I threw a pillow so hard at Mitch that he fell off the porch then I burst into tears because I thought I had hurt him. Geez, I said I wasn’t recording things. I don’t know who was laughing harder, Dad or Mitchell. Mom and I were not amused. Not. Amused. At all. Geez.

Mitchell and I brought up all the cases of fake logs that Mom insisted on using as well as the same thing that was in Memaw and Granddaddy’s house. We hadn’t used them before he went away, and they were stacked in the pantry to get them out of the floor in the bedroom. I was just glad they weren’t lost in the barn where I couldn’t get at them. I knew they wouldn’t last long – I think they are mostly for looks rather than heat – but they would have to do until I could figure out that particular problem. I got one of the boxes and put it in the master bedroom.


At least I could say the wood stove in the master bedroom worked as advertised because Dad had had it checked out the same way he’d had the fireplaces checked out. It was a big ol’ thing that supposedly can heat 2000 square feet. It does heat up the room so it can only be used on the coldest nights. Why on earth they put something like that in a bedroom is beyond me. I also knew that Dad had that particular chimney cleaned so I decided that it had to be safe because I was freezing. Might not have been totally logical but that’s how I was thinking. I just finished getting out of the shower when sure enough the power went out. Guess who learned to leave flashlights and battery-operated lanterns in all the rooms … for just in case?

I got the wood stove in the bedroom lit and decided soup and hot cocoa was going to have to do. After taking my soup to the bedroom to warm on the wood stove top along with hot water for cocoa I went back to the now freezing kitchen and made another pass with the bug spray. Despite the cold, disturbing and moving all the boxes had done was stir up the resident unwanted population. Bleck.

Back in the room I stuffed a draft dodger under the door to keep the heat in and bugs out, I decided it was just too much trouble to be constructive for the remainder of the night. I ate my soup, dried my hair the rest of the way, drank my cocoa, watched the twins go to bed via my phone (guess who learned to keep lots of external batteries charged … for just in case?), and then prayed the power would be back on in the morning because I had way too much to do.

 

[Griz3752]

Freebird you are really bad.

Well he's been hanging out here for years . . . . . . . .

 

[moldy]

Thank goodness I don't have a 3 story house to go thru - just our storage house! Have already found correspondence courses on card writing and cartooning, lots of calligraphy stuff, newspaper articles, and all kinds of memorabilia that none of us know the people (I think it was a cousin of DH's great grandfather). And that was just 3 boxes.

 

[sssarawolf]

Thank you very much.

My dad was like the men in the story. Couldn't wear a watch as they stopped running after a few moments etc. Good thing he was a logger most of his life.

 

[feralferret]

My mother killed watches. So did I until my mid-teens.

Kathy, thank you!

 

[kyrsyan]

Thank you.

I kill watches. I don't know why I don't kill Fitbits or phones. But I have to be careful to stay away from most electronics when I hit certain moods because I will fry them. Fortunately for my sanity, I don't hit those moods often. But my 20s were interesting as I learned that lesson. Dad used to do something to make sure my computers were well grounded. (Bonuses to having a techno for a Dad.)

 

[CGTech]

Thanks Kathy!

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 8​

The cold lasted all the way into February along with the brown outs which became a mandatory thing by order of the President. They even started putting that bogus video on all the news sites. The Oval Office was all done up like an emergency preparedness commercial with sandbags at the French doors, black out curtains on the windows, black hardhats on a couple of flat surfaces, wind up lanterns in the background, and some other boxes that had FEMA and US Red Cross stenciled on them. Looked like a freakin’ movie set and even I could tell that something was definitely fake about the whole thing. However, enough people ate it up that Mr. POTUS’ ratings went up. I know I was only seventeen, but I just don’t get some people. I mean seriously. Next thing I expected to hear was the theme song from the Mission Impossible franchise playing low in the background. Geez, you know?

At the time I learned to set the bread machine so I could get a loaf made first thing in the morning. I tried a recipe called “the best sandwich bread” and luckily it worked for me.[1] I’ve tried a few others, but at that point I wasn’t doing too much experimenting because I didn’t want to waste ingredients. Yeast wasn’t always easy to find in the budget grocery stores, so I would buy it in bulk online and have it shipped-to-store, or I would buy it on Amazon and have it shipped to a drop box rather than to the Home Place. Later Mr. Barnes said I could have small packages shipped to the Law Office address, but I tried not to abuse the privilege. As much as the ingredients, it was the brown outs that limited my ability to experiment.

Now don’t get me wrong. I get it. One, the brown outs saved fuel which the country needed to fight the war with and two, it enforced the rules for keeping lights out after 8 pm by decree to keep from giving the enemy targets to shoot at or bomb. Or that’s what I heard on the news. In some places, like my town, “lights out” was literally sundown. It caused some strain with Doug and Tessa, if the gossip I was getting from the twins was true. And I don’t think they’d lie about something like that, but being eight meant they might not have the context for everything they heard. Doug’s traveling was being sharply curtailed even though his department had military contracts and supposedly the grant he worked from might not be renewed. Tessa worked from home as a speech therapist, but she was going to be going on maternity leave at some point. I knew I would need to move carefully not to cause any unnecessary friction. And if I hadn’t come up with that caution on my own, the custody lawyer gave me a few reminders not to make his job any harder.

Out in the boonies where the Homeplace is, the problems the war created weren’t such a big deal so far. For what it is worth, locals claim to have run off all the “sympathizers” and “potential terrorists” – read into that whatever you will – but in the larger cities like Tampa it was a significant consideration. It made me worry for the twins … and even Tessa and the rest of them … because in addition to USF and a couple of other major “diverse” universities, Tampa is where MacDill AFB is located. It gave me such acid indigestion that I even called Tessa to mention it. Of course, Doug thought it was because I was trying to change the custody arrangement.

“Don’t be a blockhead,” I snapped because he’d taken the phone from Tessa and interrupted a conversation that was none of his business. “We both keep to the rules and the Judge doesn’t give either one of us acid reflux. I’m bringing up the war because it’s something that needs to be brought up.”

Well, that’s when Mister I’m-So-Smart went into this long dissertation of how unlikely it was for Tampa to have such problems and it was because of MacDill. Some of what he said even made sense so all I did was say thank you and then asked to speak with Tessa so I could find out what the twins would need to do for school during my next week with them. Of course, that brought a spiel that I need to make sure that blop-blipping-blop because he wasn’t satisfied that they were working to their Full Potential. Either that or they needed to be tested and he wasn’t footing that bill.

I surprised him by saying, “It is a possibility. Their pediatrician mentioned it when they were born. Or don’t you remember that they were micro-preemies? I’ll keep an eye on it, now let me speak to Tessa.”

Even Doug finds a braincell every once in a while and handed the phone back over to Tessa. I supposed he could have heard me grinding my teeth while I tried to keep my cool but maybe not, he’s oblivious or just plain doesn’t care what other people think when they hold opinions other than his. I knew he was still standing there so all I did was ask about the twins’ school and if they needed anything else. I heard him mutter something to her and then his big ol’ footsteps going away. I didn’t get a laundry list, but I did get even more appreciative of all the work Mom did managing the family’s needs and budget for them. Top of the list was that the twins were growing out of their shoes – a special orthopedic kind because both had toes that turned in, though as they grew that was getting better and it didn’t stop either one of them from running like jackrabbits. They took longer to learn to walk but man once they did, Mitchell and I just about had to climb the curtains to get away from them.

The next thing was that they both might need new glasses or at least needed to make sure they didn’t need a different prescription since they were on the computer so much for school. I doubted it as they’d had eye exams less than six months earlier and gotten new glasses then, but I put it on my list. Besides, I needed to find them an optometrist and pediatrician in North Florida, so it was a smart thing to think about. Ugh, the adulting for my sibs was starting to give me another worry type headache. Mitchell had made sure that the insurance was still good before he went to Basic but with him gone, the lawyer said the insurance company might require a bonified 21+ adult type person to be the guarantee. I had to put that aside though to think about when I had more facts.

In a bit of a snit Tessa said I also needed to contact the School District and turn in my intent to continue to homeschool the twins. I guess her mother-in-law, a well-known person in the homeschooling community even though it had been years since either of her kids had needed it, had pestered her or something over it.

“Tess, you gotta stop letting things get to you like that. You’re preggers again with two littles under five. People have a problem with the way the Judge is handling things, you send them to me. They wanna bark, they can bark. You don’t need to deal with it.”

“Honestly Mina,” she said in exasperation, and not the fond kind if you catch my drift.

I gave a mental shrug. “Yeah, yeah. I know. But this is me, speaking to you. The kind of communication we must do requires honesty, not fakery. Now other people? I’ll polite them into an early grave if necessary. And I’m getting good enough at it that Mr. Barnes asked if I had plans to go to law school, that I’d be good at it.” I laughed. “Can you imagine?”

There was a brief pause and she said, “Actually I can. And you should consider it, especially if you are going to hold onto that old, haunted house. Why our father held on to that eyesore and money pit I don’t know and now look at the mess you are in.”

“Maybe,” I said to keep her from asking awkward questions and to put off the sound of the impending lecture I could hear in her voice. “Look, just make sure you text me or whatever when you find out that the twins need something. It isn’t your responsibility to buy stuff for them and I don’t want Doug to be on your back about it.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” she said sounding angry and as offended as a wet cat.

“It sounds exactly what I mean it to. Buying the twins stuff that they need is not your responsibility. And I don’t want Doug to be on your back about it. I’m sure he has his reasons for feeling like he does but I don’t want those feelings to spill out on you when they don’t need to. Don’t read more into it than there is.”

The conversation was going downhill, so I asked her to let me say bye to the twins who I knew were lurking. When the two of them got on the phone, in our agreed upon code I reminded them to keep their heads down and keep up with school and I’d keep an eye on things from my side in my way, and that they had the phones just in case.

Knox said our agreed upon code phrase, “Got it covered Mina.” Then he added, “Guess what? We got a 100% on our spelling test and there were words on it that weren’t on the list. No one else got one hundreds, only us. And it is because of the game we played on the drive home. You shoulda heard the teacher!”

“Yeah well, you just be polite. ‘K? You do not need to follow my bad example, so be like Mitchell. Understand?”

He laughed and they both said they understood and then said ‘bye. Tessa asked me to hang on a sec after the twins ran to go finish their chores, something else I’d reminded them to do with a good attitude when I dropped them off. “What game were they talking about? Doug’s mother keeps asking.”

“Oh, the one that Mitchell used to play with me to keep me quiet when I wouldn’t shut up. You should remember. Or maybe not. You would just put your earbuds in your ears.”

“Oh.” After a pause she added, “Just don’t teach them your bad habits.”

I let it go because for as long as I’d known her, meaning my entire life, Tessa had always had to have the last word to make herself look good. Even me trying to be and do better wasn’t going to change that apparently.

---

[1] Easy White Sandwich Bread - Bread Machine Recipe

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 9​

My custody week in February was over Valentine’s Day. I surprised Tessa and Doug both by agreeing to adjust the days a bit so that they could take their kids and go to the beach for their anniversary and for a bit of a “babymoon” before #3 arrived. They expected a fight and supposedly even had a letter to the Judge prepared.

“You know, you two are making this way harder than it has to be. Of course I’ll take the twins during a week so you can go do the marriage thing. Dad and Mom were trying to get back to that since we were all growing up and all the rest of it. Geez, don’t throw a sprocket.”

I know I could have been nasty to them, but it was no skin off my nose, and I was trying to build credits and “you-owe-me’s” for just in case. Maybe that wasn’t the most altruistic attitude to have but in this journal, I’m trying to be honest. For whatever reason, this time I was trying to be nice. It was the twins that wanted to be evil … until I had a private conversation with them and explained. They eased back but I’m pretty sure they would have preferred to throw a monkey wrench into their defacto adults’ personal plans. Doug really needed to lay off the holier than thou routine or his kids were going to wind up even more messed up than he and Tessa are. And I was getting the feeling, even at the grand ol’ age of seventeen, that this isn’t the world to be that. Groceries kept getting more expensive. Fuel kept getting more expensive. They kept talking about rationing if things kept on like they were.

Sometimes I felt sorry for Tessa but most of the time I must admit she has what she wants. And Doug, for all his faults, seems to be really devoted and protective of her. What they have is not something I wanted when I bothered thinking about it, but I suppose it isn’t really any of my business either. So long as it didn’t damage the twins, I wasn’t going to harp on it. At least so long I could keep my mouth shut. Oil and vinegar is a good description of how we got along. I did my part to try and keep things smooth, but they needed to do a little more on their end.

The weather was pretty lousy around the country, no matter where you lived, so finding an adventure for the week hadn’t been that easy. Lots of people were heading south to get away from the cold and there was an abundance of crime as well as people finding out it wasn’t as cheap as they thought it would be to live in a “redneck” state. Most places in Florida have a higher cost of living than people expect, especially since we don’t have the same rent controls and things like they have up north. The state government doesn’t give away as much free stuff as they used to either once they learned their lesson with the illegals that tried to overwhelm the country. To go with that we don’t have very high wages here. I’ve got it good because I have multiple streams of income so only working a few days a month fit in with my needs at the time. Other people – like Tessa and Doug – might have good jobs but good is all relative to go along with the expenses you make. I kinda got the feeling that Doug had a lot of student loans and that was one of the reasons they wanted to move into the house from the expensive apartment they had been living in. I guess they didn’t expected to have to pay the portion that the Judge ordered, and I heard from the twins they were also grumbling about taxes and stuff. Well, I could top their grumbling but at least I had Mrs. Kiplinger’s cousin over in Lake City to give me a hand with all the stuff I had to report to the IRS.

For February I decided we would stay in and around Tampa and had a list and a half of things to do, especially those activities that coincided with things set up by the home school community:

1 – State Fair (Tampa) on armband day so the twins could ride all the rides to their hearts’ content.
2 – Took a guided tour of Fat Beet Farm[1] and their animal petting area that was a field trip sponsored by one of the local home school support groups that I still had contacts in
3 – Spent the day in Tarpon Springs[2] playing tourist

• The Sponge Docks
• Greek bakeries
• Picked through the fancy soaps to choose the colors for the bathrooms
• Found some shea butter for the Twins to have a small container of because they couldn’t use much on their skin for where they’d get dry at their elbows, knees, and feet
• I even found a couple of Greek bread machine recipes to try out.[3][4]

4 – Homeschool Day at Busch Gardens[5]
5 – Homeschool Day at Florida Aquarium[6]

• Downtown we rode the streetcar (free)
• Walked on the Riverwalk (free)
• Glazer’s Children Museum (free day)

6 – Hammock Park Butterfly Garden[7]
7 – Robert’s Christmas World[8] on our way to the …
8 – Marine Aquarium[9] in Clearwater
9 – Manatee Viewing Center in Apollo Beach
10 – Went to Heritage Village[10] living history museum in Pinellas County

Each night we would boon dock close to where we were going to be the next day. And just because I suspected that Doug’s sister was trying once again to get into our business, I made a “portfolio” of all the educational activities the twins participated in that week as well as how well they did in their online classes. And I made sure that it was obvious that while I was doing it for the lawyer (wink, wink) I was voluntarily giving a copy to Tessa just in case anyone “became annoying” and said something. Unspoken to that was her in-laws and a few families at my old church that I knew were just like that. Why? Because their brain was do-gooder central, and they didn’t know how to stay out of people’s business because they simply knew better and wanted to spread that around so everyone knew they knew better. Confused? My snark can do that. But in this case, it was a case of “just in case,” something that I got good at doing.

I handed the portfolio to Tessa when I dropped the twins off after our very full week. We’d already gone over “rules for keeping noses out of our business” and other “just in case” thinking, and the twins were more onboard now that they had a better understanding.

“We washed our clothes ourselves Tessa, so you don’t have to. I bet you have a bunch of stuff from the beach. Want us to show we can do it?”

She was momentarily at a loss but said, “Just put your clothes away properly will work for me. And you need to get ready for bed, it is getting to be that time and I don’t want Charis and Donny to be woken up with any noise.”

They surprised the heck out of her by saying, “Yes ma’am.”

Doug’s sister was there – figured she would be – and of course she had to say, “What did you do? Trade them in for pod people?”

I ignored her which t’d her off a lot more than reacting to her would have and said to Tessa, “Here is a copy of what I made for the lawyer.”

Doug jerked it out of her hand and started flipping through it. “What are you saying about us?”

“Uh … Doug? Loosen the tinfoil, Dude. That’s for the lawyer to show him we are following the rules about their schoolwork and educational activities.”

He stopped flipping and blinked at me like he wasn’t sure he’d heard what I’d said. I took the folder from him and handed it back to Tessa. “I used the old portfolio format that Mom used for you and Mitchell.”

She was flipping the pages a lot slower than Doug had, meaning she was actually looking at it. “Mom never did this.”

“Sorta. It’s the same outline. I just dropped in pictures I took of the twins as they worked on stuff for proof and illustration. I also included in the back the work they did for the virtual school each day. They had to retake one quiz but that’s because the auto-grading software ate everyone’s test. I’ve got the email from the teacher to prove it in case it becomes a problem. They shouldn’t put out the new version of the programs when they haven’t gotten all the bugs worked out. I gave the original brochures and flyers to the lawyer but made copies for this report. And to make it official so the Judge will accept it, I even got signatures or stamps from staff at the different locations.”

When Doug’s sister tried to snatch it from Tessa I nearly laughed at the look on her face when Tessa closed it and kept it where she couldn’t grab it without looking obnoxious. She said, “I’m glad to see you are taking what I said seriously. Did you contact the Home Education Program with the school district?”

“As soon as you told me I needed to. And just in case someone gets on your case about it, I printed off a copy of the email acknowledging receipt of the Intent to Homeschool form and dropped it in the pocket of the folder. The lawyer already has a copy.”

A little different from the way he normally talks to me Doug said, “You should get going before curfew.”

“I have my pass on the dashboard but thanks. Oh, before I forget …” I handed Tessa a small bag. “I remember how you used to like Candy Apples from the fair. I’m not sure if you are supposed to have them while you are preggers but … anyway, here. I’ll call in a couple of days at the scheduled time.”

“Text when you get in,” she said this time, surprising me.

“Er … you’re exhausted and …”

“Text. Even if I don’t get it until in the morning.”

“Ooo … er … kay. Sure. I can do that. Just don’t freak if it isn’t right on the dot. It might depend on how many checkpoints I have to go through. I had to go through a couple coming down.”

“If you are going to be more than 30 minutes late, text me that too.”

I nodded, not sure how I was supposed to take it. She was pretty convincing that she was doing it because she cared, but it could have been a powerplay to make herself look or feel good. Sometimes with Tessa they were one and the same. No action is ever for only one reason.

I backed up and then hurried to the van followed by a “don’t speed” warning from Doug. Ugh. Dual natured people drive me nuts. Just as soon as you are set to hate someone, they turn around and act nice.

---

[1] https://www.fatbeetfarm.com/
[2] Welcome - Explore Tarpon Springs
[3] Horiatiko Psomi: Greek Country (Village) Bread
[4] Bread Machine Greek-Style Bread Recipe | CDKitchen.com
[5] Tampa Amusement Park, Theme Park & Animal Encounters | Busch Gardens Tampa Bay
[6] Visit - The Florida Aquarium
[7] https://hammockpark.org/butterfly
[8] Robert's Christmas Wonderland
[9] Visit | Plan Your Trip | Clearwater Marine Aquarium
[10] Pinellas County Heritage Village

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 10​

“Well, you’re here bright and early … what on earth?!” Mr. Barnes yelped, for once not using that silly southern drawl he normally has.

Looking at my hands and grimacing I told him, “Sorry Mr. Barnes. Turns out I might be allergic to some cleaner I bought on sale.”

“Good heavens, have you been to the doctor?!”

I sighed. “I called ask-a-nurse. They said since I wasn’t having trouble breathing or wasn’t itching, it wasn’t worth going to the ER. The hives are already going away. They were passed my elbows last night.”

Then one of the few things that I didn’t like about my job laughed and said, “You look like you stuck your hands in red grape juice. What were you doing? Playing in the stuff? Smart people use plastic gloves.”

Junior Barnes was my age but about as immature as a teenage boy his age can be. He was a varsity star on the local high school football team and for whatever reason, thought he was doing me a favor by paying me a little attention every time he needed some money (fairly often) because Mr. Barnes would give it to him in exchange for some odd job or other. Junior actually wouldn’t have been bad if he would just have kept himself to himself. But he didn’t, and I got tired of the pity he kept trying to throw me.

“Allergic reaction,” I repeated before heading to the reception area to neaten things up before the first client showed up.

I cannot tell you how many times I had to say “allergic reaction”. Geez. It only got worse when Junior and a few of his friends “stopped by” after school so he could show them my hands.

“Hey, they aren’t as ugly as they were this morning.” He was obviously disappointed.

“Careful Junior, your charm is slipping.”

“Huh?”

I rolled my eyes and took the next call, which just so happened to be from Junior’s mother … Mr. Barnes sister-in-law. I said, “Yes ma’am, he’s right here. Yes ma’am, I will. Yes ma’am.”

I got off the phone and gave him a look of false sympathy before saying, “Mrs. Barnes said you aren’t answering your phone so to give you the message that you’d best get straight home, as in right now. Something about a letter from your teacher about something or other. Buuuut … I would come up with a good story, ‘cause when Momma ain’t happy …” all the other kids said, “No one is happy.” Junior is immature and obnoxious, but he isn’t stupid, and he and his friends hightailed it out of the office.

I heard some chuckling coming from the direction of Mr. Barnes’ office and decided I needed to watch my mouth and get my butt in gear to deserve my paycheck. I finished some billing invoices and then when the office closed headed to ye ol’ wallyworld to pick up more calamine lotion, an in-store delivery of more bug sticky traps, borax, and a few things that I’d ordered for the twins like warm socks, their new shoes, and a list of OTC stuff that the twins’ pediatrician said was okay for them to take. Thankfully they are outgrowing a lot of the problems they had for being micro-preemies, but I’m going to continue to be safe rather than sorry where their health is concerned. It wasn’t just the situation with Tessa that stressed my parents out for a long time. The twins were very fragile up until about the time they learned to walk, which wasn’t until they were two. They took off like gangbusters at that point, but they are still on the lower end of the growth chart though the pediatrician is pretty sure that once they hit puberty, which may or may not take longer than normal, everything will even out by the time they are my age.

The reason why I had to order all of that OTC stuff is because I realized I didn’t have a stash in the van and because I needed to make a little “first aid kit” to leave with Tessa since they hadn’t realized that the twins weren’t supposed to have anything that could mess with their heart rate, that had artificial dye, and they did better with meds and such that worked with diabetics because of their skin. Doug tried to tune up and have something to complain about, like why weren’t they told, and I reminded him that he should have known because all of that was going on while they were dating and right after they first got married … unless of course he was so self-involved he missed it. Tessa tried to give me a warning look, but I ignored it.

I was beginning to think that Doug regretted the custody arrangement and that he may have bitten off more than he expected. But he’d dug his heels in so much that he couldn’t reverse course without looking bad. He wouldn’t have, but he probably thought he would. Oh well, too bad so sad for us. Doug is just not the kind of person that can admit he is wrong, assuming he even believed that to be possible.

As I came home and prepared for the scheduled brown out to start, I also thought about my last run in with Doug. It wasn’t awful even though it could have been, but I don’t know if it moved us forward or backward in our dealings. It had to do with the box, or should I say The Box.

I was in the middle of going through yet another box of “collectible junk” from the attic when I got a call, and the caller ID showed it was Doug. It wasn’t my scheduled call time, and I almost didn’t answer it until I realized it might be an emergency which momentarily freaked me out.

“Hello?!” I answered. “Doug? Is everything …”

“Is that the last of it?”

Obviously not any kind of emergency I had momentarily been imagining. “Er … the last of what?”

“The Box.”

My mad hit and I said, “Dang it! I thought someone was hurt or something Doug. Scare me to death why don’t you.”

“Tessa has been sick ever since she opened The Box.”

“What do you mean sick?”

“I mean her blood pressure. Mom came over and sat with the kids hoping that Tess would lay down and go to sleep for a while. Because she hasn’t. She even had a nosebleed and …”

“Put her on the phone.”

“No.”

“Doug, put Tessa on the phone or I’ll drive down there and bang on the freaking door until the neighbors call the cops and you should know me well enough after all this time that I’ll do it too.”

I heard some mumbled words like just let her have her say and get it over with in the background. Doug must have handed her the phone but before she could say anything I said, “Truth Tessa. Are you okay or is your husband going hyper protective and exaggerating?”

“I … um … no … he’s not exaggerating.”

“Well geez, why didn’t you call me if the stupid box freaked you out?!”

“It … it didn’t.”

“Yeah. Sure. Doug is a lot of things, but I don’t think he’d just lie about what set you off. Maybe I could have given the box to Doug first, but it was your stuff, not his. And your place to decide what to do with it, not his. However …”

“However what?”

“However, I suppose I could have waited or something. I’m just dealing with all this the best I can and … maybe I could have waited. But I didn’t. I do apologize for upsetting you because that wasn’t my motivation.”

Sounding tired and sad she said, “You still phrase things so oddly.”

I was pretty sure I was glad she rarely saw the eyerolls her phrasing always gave me. “I try and phrase things the way I mean them. I just knew the stuff belonged to you and that you should decide what to do with it, not me, and that was my motivation, not to intentionally upset you. I sure didn’t think you’d get sick like that. For Pete sake you’re preggers.”

“Kinda noticed, but could you phrase it a different way? Preggars is so … crude.”

I sighed. “Fine. I’ll try and remember you don’t like it. Mom didn’t like the word fart. If I can remember not to use one word, I can remember not to use the other. Now spit it out if you need to rip me a new one to make your preg … um maternity hormones … not eat you alive.”

“You are sooo … gah!” Then doing a one-eighty I could hear her cry. “Why? Why would she keep that stuff? Dad said he threw all the cards and stuff I gave him away.”

“Yeah, well he didn’t. I found them, I’m just not sure what to do with this box since you are having such a bad reaction to the other one. And don’t tell me you kept all our stuff to you, because you threw it all in the recycling bin.”

“How …?!”

“Mitchell drove by because he was going to ask if he could keep it for maybe a future reconciliation. You know how he was about regrets. It hurt him bad to see it just sitting there on the corner for pick up in the rain. If you were going to do that the least you could have done is put it in a black bag so no one would see it. You know, you and Dad are a lot more alike in some respects than either of you wanted to see. So, that box is up to you. This one is just a shoe box so maybe he didn’t keep everything, but he did keep some things but I’m pretty sure Mom wasn’t supposed to know because Mitch and I found it when we were cleaning out one of Dad’s filing cabinets … the locking one that he only kept his most important and private stuff in … I just didn’t know what it was until a couple of days ago. There’s stuff I … I’m just now getting around to being able to deal with. But don’t worry, I’ll put this one …”

“I want it.”

“Tess …”

“I said I want it and you are going to give it to me. It’s … it’s mine.”

“I’ll give it to Doug and he can …”

“I said you are going to give it to me. It’s mine,” she said sounding a lot stronger than she had when she had gotten on the phone. Sounded a whole lot like the Tessa that would butt heads with Dad and not in a way that would create a constructive outcome.

“Whatever,” I told her, refusing to be drawn into any kind of fight. Certainly not with some hormonal preggers woman. I do have some sense, and there are times you just must pick your battles if you want to survive with skin intact.

Tessa must have given the phone back to Doug because he got on the phone and I could literally feel him start to snarl. I said, “Don’t ask me. I told her I’d give this other box to you, but she got a little … like you heard her. Sounds like Tessa has some unresolved issues but that is none of my business and I’m not sticking my nose in there. You bought that gold ring, Buddy. My parents are dead and the way you and Tessa chose to handle that part of your lives … just I gotta live with the way things are now and that’s what I’m doing.”

I got off the phone quickly after that. I’m no masochist and I didn’t feel like reliving all the pain we’d gone through.

 

[sssarawolf]

Thank you for all the new chapters.

 

[Jeepcats27]

Wow, a lot of back story! Thank you for the new chapters!

 

[Griz3752]

Thank you.

I kill watches. I don't know why I don't kill Fitbits or phones. But I have to be careful to stay away from most electronics when I hit certain moods because I will fry them. Fortunately for my sanity, I don't hit those moods often. But my 20s were interesting as I learned that lesson. Dad used to do something to make sure my computers were well grounded. (Bonuses to having a techno for a Dad.)

Pretty easy to ground PCs. Phones, tablets not so much

 

[kyrsyan]

Pretty easy to ground PCs. Phones, tablets not so much

I don't seem to kill those as easily. Well, not phones. I'm not really fond of tablets. Or laptops.

 

[CGTech]

Thanks Kathy!

 

[Sandcastle76]

Lady…awesomeness flows to your keyboard, through your finger tips… loving this !! Please keep it up. Can I say MOAR without causing an adverse reaction or sounding greedy…lol. Love your talent.

 

[Griz3752]

Made us all look!!

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 11​

I’d just taken a bite of the sausage biscuit I’d made for my breakfast when my cell phone rang. It was a local area code, but I didn’t recognize the number and almost didn’t answer it until I realized how similar it was to the law office’s number.

“Hello?”

“Is this Mina Musgrove?”

After a short hesitation I answered. “Speaking. Who is this?”

“Derek Musgrove.”

“Mr. Barnes’ nephew?” And who was currently the “Musgrove” part of the law firm. I’d yet to meet him though there was a picture of him hanging on the wall in the office. He had a distinct eye patch and scar that spread above and below it from a training accident during his basic training.

“Got it in one. I need some files and the ol’ man is down sick, and I’m locked out of the office. He said you had a set of keys and could let me in. He said to tell you that … oh Lord Uncle James and his crazies … he said to tell you that whistling hens aren’t healthy to be around.”

Putting the information in order I said, “Sorry about that. He’s kinda protective and wanted there to be a way that I could know for sure that a request was legit. Is he okay?”

“Asthma attack, worse than normal.”

“Had to be that woman from Savannah that came to give her deposition. The air was practically blue from all the perfume she had on. I made that sign to ask people not to … anyway … are you there or on your way? I need ten minutes to get dressed and then about twenty to get to the office after that … so say thirty if they don’t have a roadblock at US 90 and CR49.”

He replied, “Nothing there but they’ve got an observer sitting at 129 and 90.”

“Lovely. Let me guess, he’s all dressed up with an automatic weapon to be even spiffier. I’ll go the long way around and still get there faster by avoiding the lookie lou’s.”

I was glad that I had other errands that I had planned so it wasn’t like my day was shot, I simply rearranged the schedule.

# # # # #

I was sitting in the minivan, pulling myself together and getting the keys ready, when I noticed the car in the parking lot a few spots over is rocking and the guy in the driver’s seat doesn’t look like he is as happy as that phrase would seem it should indicate. Carefully I step out and then he gets out and the back door on his car flies open and a kid jumps out and makes a run for it. Habit. That’s all I’m going to admit to. But I grab the kid I know to be an eight-year-old dynamo as he comes running at me full tilt and I toss him up on my shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Yo! Doober! What’s with the ‘tude so early in the morning?”

“Uncle Derek and Mom,” he answers, caught between anger and laughing because I know exactly how to tickle the mean-angries out of eight-year-olds. Or at least this eight-year-old that reminded me way too much of Knox before we figured out his food allergies.

“Yeah, well. Whatever. Someone wouldn’t happen to have given you anything with red dye in it would they?”

The man was just looking at me in a kind of stunned reaction until that moment then he said, “Someone, not naming names, thought it was okay for him to have a red Mountain Dew for breakfast.”

I made an appropriate face and then said to the Tasmanian Devil named Daniel Lee Musgrove, “Er … you do know that stuff is going to make you sick as a dog, right?

“It was good!”

“Listen Doober, you are going to crash and burn and get sick to your stomach fairly soon. You are going to feel miserable.” I sighed and put him down but drapped my arm across his shoulders to keep him grounded. “You are too old to not take that seriously. Even if someone accidentally offers you that poison you need to learn to politely decline and pick something that is better for you.”

“Why?”

Walking with him towards the door to unlock it I said, “Because you aren’t stupid. I’ve watched you and Knox MOC up some amazing Lego designs at church. Right now, you are so jittery I doubt you could even get bricks to clip together much less use your noggin’ to be creative enough to build something that doesn’t fall apart in under thirty seconds.”

I kept him virtually tied to me while I got the office open and then the file room unlocked for Mr. Musgrove who looked like he was about two seconds from a meltdown. Then I all but pinned Daniel to the wall while I made him some hot Ginger Milk[1] to try and deal with the pukes I knew would be coming if something wasn’t done and create enough of a carb crash that he would settle down. I had the milk in the frig and the powdered ginger and monk fruit sweetener in my purse because I always keep it on hand for the twins.

It took nearly thirty minutes, but the milk did what I wanted it to, and Mr. Musgrove kept looking at him like the boy – that I had learned through office gossip was his nephew – had been body switched with an alien. I told Daniel that I would answer his questions between phone calls if he could be polite while I was on the phone.

“Where are Knox and Nat?”

“I’ve got another two weeks before it is my turn to have them.”

“Aw, I’m going to be at camp.”

“Camp sounds cool.”

“It isn’t. No one likes me.”

I gave him a look and asked, “Is it you they don’t like or is it they don’t like how you can act?”

He shrugged.

“See, this is where you need to activate that smart brain I know you have. Try and stick to a good diet that doesn’t make you act like a manic mud puppy. Then learn to enjoy being at camp regardless how other people feel about it. Then people might see the real you and not the food allergies. And when that happens …”

“People will like me?” he asked like it didn’t compute.

“Let’s put it this way. I will never do something just to make someone else like me. I think that is bogus. However, doing stuff just to drive other people buggy doesn’t exactly make my life easier and …” The phone went off again.

I held up a finger and picked up the phone. “Barnes and Musgrove.”

It was like listening to the teacher on the Charlie Brown cartoons. Mwaa, Mwaa, Mwaa.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes isn’t available … No, Mr. Musgrove is on another case [said Mr. Musgrove gave me a grateful look and reburied his head in the table full of files he had out] … No sir, I’m sorry I don’t have the authority to do that but if it is just a matter of sending you a copy of the current filing, I can zip that over to you and you should have it before lunch … Of course … Yes Sir … And I’ll make sure that I note it on Mr. Barnes’ calendar as well though I know it is already on his personal calendar as he mentioned it to me already … Yes sir … Have a good day!”

I looked at Daniel and I said, “See? I could have pulled a cranky but decided to offer up some grace instead since I’ve needed some in the past. It chilled the client out and I got it worked out so your uncle and Mr. Barnes don’t have to hear about me being a terrible employee or whatever they would have come up with to pay me back for not behaving as I ought.”

Daniel sighed but I knew he knew what I was talking about and would maybe think about it for next time. Maybe. Eight-year-olds aren’t known for an excess of just in case thinking. Forty-five minutes later I was hoping to get away when in through the door came Junior and when he saw Daniel he started to offer him a red tootsie pop.

I told him, “Do it and your mother will not find all your parts to stow in the family crypt.”

“What? I wasn’t going to do anything,” he said with a stupid look on his face that told me he got off on creating problems with Daniel way too much as a way to distract from his own behavior.

“Seriously Junior, the office is closed, and Mr. Barnes isn’t here so what do you need?”

“Derek texted me.”

“Mr. Musgrove?”

“I call him Derek.”

“Well I don’t, this is a professional setting. Try and act like you can make a spark with your braincells.”

“Touchy, touchy.”

We both heard a forbidding, “Junior!”

Turns out the family regularly uses Junior for muscle and other odd jobs. When Junior left I saw him shoving something into his pants pocket and he took off with a spring in his step without saying goodbye. Well good riddance is what I was thinking and unfortunately it must have shown on my face because I heard a coughing chuckle behind me.

I turned with a jerk and then said, “Um …”

“Don’t worry about it. Junior has that effect on people. And … thank you for keeping Daniel busy so I could get this done without it taking all day.”

Daniel was slowly melting into the sofa chair he’d been sitting on because the heavy carb drink had done its job though he still looked a little green. Mr. Musgrove noticed and asked, “What was that you gave him?”

I explained about the ginger milk and how it was something my mother had come up with for the twins.

“Twins?”

I noted the cautious look on his face and knew why. Instead of making a big deal I told him, “Mrs. Padfield mentioned something at church so I’m aware. Knox and Nat also know. They’re the same age and … sympathetic.”

Mr. Musgrove didn’t know what to say but thanked me like he wasn’t sure what else to say and then I was finally able to lock the office and head off to do my errands only I was thinking about Daniel. His father had been drunk and they’d been in the backseat, buckled up but not in car seats like they should have been given their size. Daniel had lost his twin sister when his father had crossed the line and clipped a lumber truck. The father had also died but hadn’t been that much of a loss if town gossip was true. Daniel and his twin had also been micro-preemies and well, there was a lot of commonalities between Knox, Nat, and Daniel and they seemed to naturally be drawn together the times they were at church at the same time. And when they weren’t there, Daniel seemed to decide I was a more than adequate substitute.

More gossip that I wish I didn’t know is that Daniel’s mother was more relieved than grief-stricken at the loss of her husband and daughter and wouldn’t have really minded had Daniel been taken as well. She never said it, from my understanding, but she wasn’t a real demonstrative mother except when it got her something. She’d been very young when they were born – fifteen – and she had regretted it from the start but hadn’t been strong enough to give them up for adoption like she should have. She’d tried to turn everything into a fairytale or something like that and Daniel is paying the price for it even though people in his life try to mitigate it. Today had apparently been his uncle’s turn or similar.

I made it to Aldi’s in Lake City before I was through thinking about Daniel’s situation. I’d started to pick up flats of canned foods as a way to soothe my worry over rising prices and threats of rationing and stuff like that. I also purchased all I could of all-purpose and self-rising flour, several different kinds of cake and muffin mixes, a flat of Vienna sausages, a flat of Beanee Weenees, a freakton of cans of tuna, some pre-cooked bacon that didn’t need to be refrigerated until opened, and a few other convenience items that were cheaper to buy than I could make. It was a little embarrassing loading the van (I eventually got over that problem) and I hurried home to put things away.

The house was about as bug free as I could make it and I no longer caused a roach stampede when I brought groceries home. I still had some food that Mom and Memaw had home canned/preserved and that was good, but I wasn’t going to have a garden this year as it was just too much work on top of everything else I had going on. And being gone a week every month with the twins also meant that I really couldn’t take care of one the right way just yet. I knew how because Mom and Memaw used Mitch and I like draft mules every year but that just meant I knew where my limits were, and it was going to be next year before I could plant one of my own. That doesn’t mean that I was going to play Captain Oblivious.

I’d finally managed to get the solar power hooked up and working properly. It took a while to get all the batteries charged so even though I was tempted to use it when the brown outs happened I didn’t. I used regular electricity most of the time, but I was ready to test things out for just in case. And the first thing I was going to try out was Mom’s freeze dryer. Dad had grumped that it never got used for what it was supposed to get used for. Instead Memaw mostly dried candy, bananas, strawberries, and apples with it. And mostly on top of that, they were for gifts. A couple of times she freeze-dried ham and turkey and leftovers from holiday meals and cookouts, but not often, and Mitch and I used it all up because until the insurance money had come in, we were having to get creative and use what we had around the house when we wised up to the fact that fast food was going to bankrupt us. Since then, I’ve gone through almost all the home canned soups. So, I took my life in my hands and planned out how to do all of the home preserving that Mom and Memaw had meant for me to carry on.

I couldn’t count on the freezers because of the brown outs. That meant I could really only buy enough fresh stuff that I could prepare or eat fresh before it spoiled. The store flyers showed that there was a BOGO sell on asparagus, broccoli, English peas, and mushrooms. I could handle all of that. I planned to can the asparagus and English peas, and freeze dry the broccoli and mushrooms. I had all the bags and the sealing gizmo that Mom and Memaw used but I also ordered an in-store delivery of the oxygen absorbers and more bags, and I’d gotten a call they were ready for pick up at the farm co-op. I also picked up some bell peppers when I was at the store and decided to freeze dry them as well.

What I hadn’t told Daniel is that the twins probably wouldn’t make it to the Homeplace in March because I planned on adventuring closer to Tampa again.

---

[1] Hot Ginger Milk

 

[Lake Lili]

Thanks Kathy!
Lili

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 12​

“Knox you can plead all you want but you are going to wait one hour because I am not wearing your puked up cake batter milkshake all down my back when we get off the Tilt-a-Whirl. Capiche?”

The grossed-out look I gave him headed off the fit he was tempted to throw and as promised after one hour we got back to riding enough rides using the armband tickets I bought for the Strawberry Festival to get even me ready to puke.

“Guys, I give. You’ve ridden everything you can … at least twice. I’m really not wanting to go upside down one more time for at least a few minutes. I’m going to gak.”

Nat snickered which caused Knox to snicker and then I heard a big laugh causing me to turn around fast. “Daniel?!”

Knox and Nat were happy to see their long-distance friend and all three were doing some weird Snoopy dance of happiness. I looked helplessly at his adult … Mr. Musgrove … and was surprised when he nearly whimpered, “Help.”

“Er … okay?” Looking around I asked, “You have a date?”

“No, thank God. I had to come to Tampa to go to a meeting and at the last minute Felicia …”

I nodded, “Daniel’s mother.”

“Yeah. Her,” he said in irritated disgust. “She was supposed to come with, and I was just going to drop them off and pick them up after a few hours but …”

“She ditched you?!” I said already having the suspicion where she was concerned.

“We got halfway to Tampa, and she asked to stop at a rest area. She took off with a friend she had meet her there and I didn’t know until she texted me right when I was starting to worry about what was taking her so long in the … er …”

“Gotcha. And you being an honorable man decided to take Daniel to the festival anyway. Before or after your meeting?”

“After,” he said with a sigh. “The kid was actually good and … and I just couldn’t back out.”

“And now you need someone for him to ride rides with?” He tried to look embarrassed, but I wouldn’t let him. “Relax. My dad and brother couldn’t do rides either. And now there is only me to do it for the twins.”

“Uncle James … explained. And yes, I asked. I hadn’t realized his new receptionist … was your age.”

“Well twenty-six, which is your age, isn’t Methuselah’s older brother so …”

He groaned. “She didn’t.”

I laughed. “The whoooooole nine yards. And you can still relax. Mrs. Padfield is nice so I’m not going to be offended she was warning me off developing a crush on you.”

He looked ready to vanish into thin air, but I just said, “Don’t worry about it will you? Just don’t pull a Junior and …” I turned and snapped, “You three did not really think you were going to wander around here by yourself?”

Knox fessed up first. “Uh … no Mina. We just wanted to look at the gizmo on the Ferris wheel to see if we could make one out of legos.”

“Uh huh. Any reason you couldn’t have … I don’t know … asked before wandering away?”

This time it was Nat who stepped up. “We won’t do it again. I promise. But can we go look?”

“Give me a sec.” I turned to Mr. Musgrove and said, “Daniel can hang with us if you need to go make calls and stuff.”

Regretfully he said, “I’d be taking advantage of you.”

“Call Mrs. Padfield and she’ll vouch for me. I work in their age group on Wednesday nights at church. You can go … do whatever you gotta and just give me a meet up time and location.”

“I’m not leaving the fairgrounds but …”

“Lights bothering you?”

“How … oh. Yes.” He subconsciously almost reached up to touch his eye patch but put his hand back down.

“Will you stop already? I’m not going to ruin Daniel though I may scalp all three of them if they don’t knock it off …” I said giving the three caballeros the evil eye for getting a little unruly. And then back to Mr. Musgrove I said, “And honestly? I would have taken my brother anyway I could have had him if he would have come home.”

“It was a training accident; I wasn’t active duty yet.”

“I heard. Doesn’t change anything in my opinion. Just do what you need to so you don’t get a migraine, I’ll take these three and wear them out for a while. You still have my cell number?”

We made sure we could reach each other, and I wound up doing another round of rides whether I had meant to or not but I was definitely done when it was time to hook back up with Mr. Musgrove so they could head to some family member’s house for the night before heading back home.

We walked them to their exit gate so the kids could say goodbye and Mr. Musgrove said thank you again, this time with some strawberry shortcake to make the point.

After they were gone Nat said, “That was so cool. Was it a surprise?”

“If you are asking me if I planned it, no.”

Knox said, “I wish Daniel could have stayed with us.”

“Maybe another adventure, but don’t say anything because I don’t know what his family is going to allow or not. There’s the entire summer for that sort of thing. I understand he is going to camp.”

“He was but isn’t now.”

“How do you know that?”

“His mom spent the money for his camp fees.”

“He told you this?” I asked, shocked in spite of the few things I’d heard about Daniel’s mother.

“Yeah. She spends all the money that she is supposed to use on him.”

“Knox …”

Nat said, “It’s true. He said it comes from sock security, like the checks you get to take care of us, only she doesn’t use it to take care of him.”

“Fine but let’s get one thing straight. It is called social security survivor benefits, and I wouldn’t care whether I get them or not. You’re staying with me just as soon as I can fix it that way with or without those checks.”

“Aw, don’t get mad Mina. I just meant …”

“I know what you meant Knox, I just don’t ever want you to think I need a check to do what I gotta to take care of you. You’re my sibs. End of discussion.”

“What about Tessa?”

Ugh. Pandora’s box. “I don’t know how to answer that Nat. She’s … biologically our sister but for me? It’s like she is a distant relative. She’s trying to do the right thing by you two but I’m … grown up enough that all the old stuff … it just gets in the way.”

Knox and Nat leaned on me and offered me their brand of understanding and we decided to keep going … just not on rides.

 

[Jeepcats27]

Nice chapters! Thanks Kathy!

 

[sssarawolf]

Thank you Kathy, nice additions.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 13​

We ate more strawberry stuff … strawberry nachos and strawberry fritters were my two favs … but I had to be careful because some of the sauces and stuff had red dye in it. As we were leaving the festival to head to our boondock for the night, I picked up a fifty-pound bag of peanuts in their shell. The twins thought that was a riot.

I told them, laughing just as much, “You won’t be laughing when I can just pull a jar of boiled peanuts out of the cabinet when you want them.”

“Just like Memaw?!” they asked in excitement.

“Just like … or at least close enough.”

They both smiled like they were happy that they weren’t going to have to give up a good memory.

The night’s boondock was near Lithia, and we were all tired when we got there. The crowd that had arrived ahead of us were a little on the rowdy side and I considered finding someplace else until I guess it was a ranger or someone similar came around and said knock it off or move. I saw an almost-fight but when one of the other boondockers turned out to be an off-duty cop the drunks were rounded up and carted off someplace and things quieted back down. I was thankful the twins were asleep and didn’t see it. It freaked me out enough that I re-evaluated the boondocking thing. I was still struggling what to do for April and May’s adventure. There was still so much to do at the Homeplace that I could use their help with, but then again, they were eight years old, and I had to be the adult and be realistic. I decided to take a wait-and-see approach.

To keep up with the twin eating machines I’d brought one of the bread machines that was the smaller and easier to use of the two I had from Mom and Memaw. During one of the demonstrations for all things strawberry, they handed out recipes for Strawberry Shortcake Bread[1] recipe for a bread machine. You know I tried it.

The next day we did the Tampa Zoo. We basically did it all day which gave them time to participate in all the kids’ activities they had going on for Spring Break. We boondocked in the same place but the crowd was different so no drunks or rowdiness which I was thankful for.

Day three I took them to MOSI (museum of science and industry) since it was another homeschool day. Since entrance was free as I had proof we were homeschoolers, I paid for the extras; the planetarium, the ropes course, and the virtual reality simulator. There was a camp-in that night and then I heard that they’d moved curfew up and I wouldn’t be able to get back to Lithia before it went into effect. Um, so I broke the rules and we kinda boondocked in the parking lot. Later heard that a lot of people were stuck out and really hacked off about it but apparently some big secret something or other was being transferred to MacDill or a person or something. They weren’t exactly forthcoming. They just wanted people off the street even if that meant sleeping in their vehicle overnight. I was glad I had the van and all the extras … including a bathroom. A lot of people were not as lucky and the few port-o-potties that were open, or at least those that weren’t locked, got used by more than your average homeless person or hooker out on a “date.”

The twins didn’t think anything of it because I didn’t make it a big deal. Traffic was a bit of a mess the next morning and it took me longer than I expected to get across the bridge to St. Petersburg (there was a check point on each end which was kinda crazy) but we finally made it to Sunken Gardens[2] and then to the Salvador Dali museum[3] both of which had a kid's program. First was Sunken Gardens. I made a bread machine recipe I had found online called Oregano and Romano Cheese Bread[4] because for lunch we went a little way down the road to Mazzaro’s Italian Grocery[5]. I was mimicking the yearly special treats that Mom had always tried to do when we did the round of Homeschool Free Days in the area. The twins remembered and were so happy. I didn’t mention that this might be the last year we could do something like this because I didn’t know what them living full time in north Florida with me was going to look like yet. But until I did know, I could at least make echoes of the good times we’d had with Mom. Like that movie Fiddler on the Roof. Why? Tradition!

After Mazzaro’s where I also picked up some Italian imports just the way Mom had always had, we headed to the Dali Museum. And afterwards, while I was cutting it close, we headed to our next boondock near the Ringling Museum[6] in Sarasota.

Day five was the entire Ringling Museum complex. I mean the entire complex. The Museum of Art, the Circus Museum, the Bayfront Gardens, and Ca’ D’zan which was the Ringlings’ home during the Winter. The twins of course loved the Circus Museum but they were a good sport about everything else, even the museum with all the art in it. As long as they get some outside time to go with their “educational activities” they usually are. We boondocked in the same place again and while the twins watched one of the old Disney movies … think it was Hunchback of Notre Dame … I got some work completed on the portfolio I made for that week’s custody time.

Day six was a shopping extravaganza. Not my fave activity, but I’d gotten a list of things that they needed from Tessa, and it was mostly clothes from the skin out. The stuff next to the skin I got at wallyworld where I picked up some stuff for me and went digging through the clearance aisles for anything else. Just like up in north Florida, there were no limits on clearance items, so I took advantage of what made sense. I also picked up some Carbona dye remover to get rid of the embarrassing colors and designs on the under things that I bought for myself. But the twins have … um … issues with their clothes. I didn’t have time to sew them stuff, so it meant hitting up all the thrift stores in town because they rarely if ever cared for new clothes. They both have sensitive skin, not as bad as when they were babies, but they still don’t like certain textures. And it took all day to hunt up what they needed … Salvation Army, Goodwill, Community, Hope’s Children, Valhalla, Plato’s Closet, Uptown Cheapskate, and Revolve is where we had the best luck.

I had to do it rather than Tessa for a lot of reasons, but the main one being that Tessa does not do thrift. Ever. As in it embarrasses her or grosses her out. It never bothered me because I lived in her hand-me-downs or whatever Mom and Memaw sewed for me. I still have all that stuff, and Mitch’s too, in the tubs that are organized by size and gender that Mom put them in, but it is going to have to wait until they are at the Homeplace for the summer until we can go through them. I should have brought a couple of tubs with me, but I didn’t think of it. Even now I am trying to plan sooner and better but at the time I was kinda overwhelmed with trying to finish the bookkeeping degree, get the homeplace cleaned and organized, with the law office job taking more time than I planned for, and all the rest of learning to adult when there’s a war going on in the world, whether it is undeclared or not.

Last day together I spent about half of it at a laundromat washing all the clothes and getting them neat with the portable steamer that I was smart enough to bring with me. Mom used it a lot when she was sewing and quilting. I’d also been smart enough to remember to pick up some hangers at wallyworld and the fixings for the homemade laundry goop that Mom and Memaw had always used. Luckily the twins had never reacted to it. It is also about the only thing that Tessa had learned from Mom and insisted on using for her family. I bought three times the supplies for it that I had planned and broke it down so a third of it I would leave with Tessa. How’s that for adulting and being considerate at the same time? What I hadn’t thought about was something to hang the hangers on so Knox and I had to jury rig a rope in the van and keep it from swinging so that the hangers wouldn’t fall off while I was driving.

I took them back to Tessa – not fun for any of us – to find that she was being hormonal and fritzing about raccoons getting into the garbage.

“That’s because you are letting the fruit from the trees just fall to the ground. They are getting used to easy pickings and are hanging around making a mess. And when Doug mows … or is he still paying that kid to mow? … it gets shredded and that is what is bringing all the ants into the yard.”

She almost cried, “I don’t have time for this. I can’t even see my feet and …”

“Relax. Let me put the clothes in the twins’ closet and we’ll get things cleaned up. Just give me an hour.”

“The garbage can is full.”

“You make things so hard,” I said on a sigh. “I’ll ask Mr. Moose if he has any room in his compost bins.” Tessa made a face. Mr. Moose was not her favorite person. He is the neighborhood’s version of the nosey neighbor that will call code enforcement on you if he thinks you aren’t following the rules.

Mr. Moose was very happy to take the fallen, spoiled fruit … if I would do him the favor of helping him to clean off his own fruit trees and help him thin his bromeliads, some of which were pineapple plants. No biggie since it got me what I needed, and the twins and I got it all done toot sweet. It was mainly the papayas and the fallen citrus they were after. I missed those trees that Mom and Dad had planted when I was just a baby, and I was happy to take care of it for Tessa since it meant I got what she and Doug wouldn’t eat. I also got the extra bromeliads from Mr. Moose after I promised if I didn’t plant them all that I would find them good homes. It also gave me an idea.

From the yard I got papayas, red grapefruit, white grapefruit, key limes, Valencia oranges, carambolas (aka starfruit), and guava. I also told Tessa to ask around at church to see if anyone would come glean the trees for her in exchange for the fruit if stuff got ripe before I could get back and help in April. And if she couldn’t come up with anyone, that I would do some calling of my own to see if maybe some of the families we’d known through Mitch’s scout troop, or the cub scout pack, was interested.

I pulled out after reminding the twins what kind of behavior we’d agreed to … and why … then had to hurry off to avoid all of us putting out a bucket of tears, and as I had decided I was going to stop at this produce stand Mom had frequented even if it meant buying a pass to drive after hours. I picked up a frick ton of strawberries by the flat. Got nearly a bushel of sweet corn, a bunch of garlic, a bunch of onions, some squash, lettuce, and other greens. I picked up two more bags of key limes, and a big bag of oranges. I almost over did it.

---

[1] Strawberry Shortcake Bread Recipe | Bread Machine Recipes
[2] St. Petersburg
[3] Dalí Home
[4] Fragrant Bread Machine Oregano and Romano Cheese Bread
[5] Mazzaro's Italian Market | St. Petersburg Italian Market
[6] Home

 

[Jeepcats27]

Gee, Thanks for all your chapters tonight! A real nice treat! lets not forget the interesting recipes! You have been definitely been broadening my cooking horizons!!

 

[Lylythye]

Kathy, thanks for the new chapters !!!!!

 

[CGTech]

Wow, thanks Kathy!

 

[sssarawolf]

As Danny Kaye would say; Yay verily yay.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 14​

I almost over did the produce buying spree. For nearly five days I did nothing but food prep and preserve. I wound up having to spend time figuring out how to hook up the refrigerator to the solar power on top of it. And before I could do any of that I had to deep clean the kitchen again. All the roach motels had residents in them when I got back. At least the population was going down, but I wished the additive that I put in the spray would hurry up and break their breeding cycle like it was supposed to. So gross. We never had this many before my parents died. I think it is all the moving out of boxes and stuff that took away their places to hide. Plus, I read online to spray the outside of the house as well, like at ground level where they could be coming in. I did that asap and got a bunch more sticky traps and put them in various places outside to see if I could figure out where most of the traffic was coming from. Turns out the stuff around the doors needed replacing, the stuff that secures the door in its frame. Geez, do I look like a handyman or pest control technician?! I told myself that I gotta hurry up and get this under control before I gak out and someone calls for a home inspection (cough * Doug’s sister * cough).

It took all my ingenuity – and Mom and Memaw’s big book of recipes and instructions – to get the food taken care of before any spoiled. Freeze drying, canning, dehydrating, and eating fresh what didn’t get used those ways. I made a couple of specialty breads with the fruit too soft to preserve. Mostly that wound up being the bananas which I used in Banana Bread Machine Bread[1] and a couple of lemons that got squashed which made good Lemon Cake Bread[2]. I froze the bread that I didn’t eat so it would be there when the twins were, or so I could take some to work on DCD days … difficult client days. Amazing how bread and coffee could change the attitude of even the worst of the worst people. I put out a little real butter and some homemade jam and some of them all but purred. I even got a marriage proposal from one guy old enough to be my grandfather.

It was a good thing I finished when I did because I got another call from Mr. Musgrove, this time for a Saturday favor. After the hello’s and his apologies for bothering me he said in an embarrassed rush, “Felicia is on the run and no one else can take Daniel. I know it isn’t your normal day in the office but … I have a hearing coming up on Monday and I need time in the file room to prepare but there’s no one else … and I hate to ask …”

He did sound kind of desperate. “Relax Mr. Musgrove. What are we talking? You want me to pick him up and take him to the park or stay at the office or just what?”

“You’d … take him to the park?”

I laughed. “I know eight-year-old boys. He’s a lot like Knox can get when he doesn’t get enough exercise or eats the wrong thing.”

“I don’t mean to sound rude but, what’s this going to cost?”

I gave a mental shrug and decided not to be offended. “Well since this is a one off, if you don’t have a problem with me schlepping him around while I do errands, we’ll just call it an exchange of favors. He can be an extra pair of hands and feel useful, and I’ll appreciate his help and that’s all we have to say on the subject. It won’t be slave labor, so you don’t need to worry about that either.”

Being a responsible uncle, he asked a few more questions but I learned they were more pro forma because I’d already been given a gold star by Mr. Barnes and Mrs. Padfield, plus his previous meetings with me.

He only needed me to watch Daniel until lunchtime. I decided to put my errands on hold and instead took him to Suwannee River State Park so he could get the same treatment I would have given Knox … fresh air, nature, and exercise. I mean I bought a year pass with the State for all the parks, so it isn’t like it cost me anything. And I had a baseball and mitts to toss around a ball and wound up having to teach him. He has a decent arm and aim once you can get him focused. He even surprised himself.

Back at the law office …

“Uncle Derek! Guess what?!”

“Er … what?” he asked like he was wondering what kind of trouble there’d been.

“Mina and I threw a baseball, and I can catch and throw now!”

“You tossed a ball around huh? I did that a lot as a kid too. But lately …”

“Aw, it would just take some practice Uncle Derek. Really. We’d have to start slow so we don’t break any windows, but we can do it. No one can tell us we can’t. Only we can tell us we can’t. But we can. We just gotta practice.”

Mr. Musgrove looked at Daniel and I could see something slowly clicking. “You know, we can give it a try tomorrow after church if you want to. We can go in Aunt Maggie’s backyard. Er … way in the backyard.”

Daniel nodded like a little old man. “Yeah. I don’t think it would be a good idea to break Aunt Maggie’s windows. We gotta live there and we can’t if she gets upset. And I sure don’t want to make her cry. She’s too nice for that.”

I learned Aunt Maggie was Mrs. Margaret Padfield and at least for the time being Mr. Musgrove and Daniel were both living there. He’d been living in an RV park because he’d been moving around too much to find a house to buy or rent, but that particular park is age-restricted, and it looked like he might be getting temporary custody of Daniel.

I guess he felt forced to explain, but I kinda had enough drama of my own to go meddling or caring about someone else’s. I know that makes me sound unsympathetic or that I lack compassion which isn’t how I feel. I was just full up with stuff on my own plate and getting and keeping my own ducks in a row. I wound up having to explain that when Mr. Musgrove reluctantly voiced a concern that Daniel may transfer too much affection to me and drive me off.

After explaining I told him, “Like I said, it isn’t that I don’t care, I just don’t have the … the … the reserves I guess you might call it to get over-involved in stuff that for the most part isn’t my business. I really don’t mind Daniel. He’s a decent kid despite his issues that reminds me of my little brother and he and the twins get along which is a plus.”

“But.”

“It’s not really a but. It’s more like I need to stay objective because I don’t want to see Daniel get hurt and I can’t afford for the twins to get hurt. Daniel has family that is stepping up. What he imagines me to be I don’t know. Being a friend, maybe a bit of a mentor? That’s fine. It strokes my brain the right way. But he has a family and one that is stepping up to fill the hole his mother keeps dropping him into. And who knows, she might figure her damage out and I’m not looking to take her place and mess that possibility up or confuse things and give her an out or make her mad or whatever could happen. So bottom line … today doesn’t just have to be a one off. If I can, I’ll help. But you all must understand I already have responsibilities and … I can’t shirk them.”

Mr. Musgrove leaned back on the vehicle he was driving that day, a beat-up jeep. “Straight forward and honest. Uncle James said something to that effect, but I guess I wasn’t listening.”

I chuffed a laugh. “That’s probably the politest thing someone has called that part of my personality. I have a brother-in-law that … never mind.”

“Don’t worry about it. I have a couple of relatives … including siblings … that used to say the same thing about me. Now … we don’t talk at all.”

The look on his face reminded me a bit of Dad’s so I knew that it was touchy territory. Before I had to figure out how to respond he added, “Before Aunt Maggie gives you the rest of the soap opera of my life let me explain. And I’m not looking for sympathy, but I have a feeling that this thing with Felicia is going to stir the hornet’s nest, and someone might call or show up on the firm’s doorstep and I don’t want you to get side swiped.” When I nodded cautiously he said, “My dad has been married five times … but only to two women. My stepmother is his first and current wife. My mother was wife #2 and #4. He and Lorena married right out of high school as soon as Dad finished Basic, pretty much against family wishes so they didn’t get the support they could probably have used. They had my sister Caren and then Lorena didn’t want any more kids while Dad did, and it eventually got to be a problem. They divorced and Dad met my mom and had me not long after … as in since we are going to be honest, her pregnancy with me is the reason why they got married. My mom was … a quiet woman who didn’t know how to handle what she used to call Dad’s fits and starts. When he admitted to her he was still in love with Lorena … and Lorena felt the same … she turned him loose to go back to Lorena as long as he promised not to just abandon me and that she and he would stay friends. Things would have worked out well except Lorena got pregnant with my brother Sam and Lorena blamed Dad and it eventually ended again. Dad ran back to mom, because they had stayed friends, and that’s how Felicia came into this world. Then Mom got sick and she was the one that brokered peace between Dad and Lorena and as soon as Mom died, as promised Dad and Lorena remarried for the third time, but no more kids.”

“That’s … um …”

He chuckled. “Sure was and still is. Now for the rest of the story. I’m no longer ashamed to admit I don’t like Lorena. Not because she is a bad person but because … I just don’t like her. And her kids, my half siblings, are a lot like her. It didn’t leave a lot of room in Dad’s life for me or Felicia no matter how he tried. Things weren’t bad growing up but maybe you wouldn’t understand how freeing it can be not to have to play family to people that can’t find it in them to …”

I interrupted him to say, “Wait. I thought you had my history.”

“’Scuse me?”

I explained about Tessa. “So that’s my story, or the part you apparently missed. I’m doing what I must do, but where it goes after I get the twins full time I haven’t a clue. I’m open to … something. But not at the cost of my soul or the twins’ mental health.”

He had a blank look on his face and then nodded. “That’s the first time anyone has ever … I may just have to steal that phrasing next time Dad tries to pull me in though it’s gotten to be less of a problem. Lorena has become the problem, suddenly acting like things aren’t what they are and haven’t been for years. Ever since Felicia got pregnant. It was Lorena that encouraged her to get married and keep the twins. After the training accident she was sure that I was going to be a drag on Dad for the rest of my life.”

I made a face and he barked a laugh. “I like your honesty Mina. And I know Uncle James likes you. Just a word of warning, Uncle James can get … fixated. After his wife died …”

“He thinks he needs to play white knight. Don’t most lawyers? I don’t need a white, black, green, purple or any other kind of knight. But your uncle did give me a chance when most people seemed to think all I was good for was running a register and asking if they wanted fries with that. I’m like my dad raised me to be; loyal to those that offer honest help. I have a paralegal degree and I’m almost finished with my bookkeeping degree. Yes, they are AS’s but the certificate is legal and I can learn anything that I need beyond that. As long as Mr. Barnes’ thinks I can do the job, I’m willing to deal with his … er … eccentricities.”

“And I was an EMT before I got drafted and lost the eye and have enough foreign parts in my body that I can’t get through a metal detector without setting it off. I became a lawyer because Uncle James needed the help when his uncle retired. You think Uncle James likes to play it up? Uncle Leroy Musgrove was three times as bad and was the spitting image of Colonel Sanders including the white suit and black string tie.”

“That’s him in the big portrait in Conference Room 2? The one reserved for the big clients?”

“Yep. They had it painted for his funeral.”

About that time, I realized Daniel had been quiet too long and I turned to find him. Nothing was destroyed, he’d simply gotten bored and gone to sleep.

We got him up and I locked up the office and belatedly went to the big box store and the farm co-op to finish getting supplies for the rest of my day’s projects after politely turning down lunch with Mr. Musgrove and Daniel. Unlike Mr. Musgrove, I have to be careful of my reputation. No matter how innocent the offer was, after working for Mr. Barnes for a couple of months, I’m well aware there are people in town who turn making a mole hill into a mountain into an Olympic sport and that kind of trouble I do not need.

---

[1] Try This Recipe for Making Banana Bread in a Bread Machine
[2] Lemon Cake Bread | Bread Machine Recipes

 

[CGTech]

Wise girl! Thanks Kathy!

 

[gjwandkids]

This is another great story. Thank you .

 

[Lake Lili]

Thanks Kathy! Appreciate all the chapters...
Lili

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 16​

No matter how bad I felt for Daniel, I wasn’t his family. It didn’t mean that part of me didn’t want to get involved but it wasn’t my place. I did my part and now I needed to keep my nose out of things so his people could work it out. If nothing else, the mess when people were trying to stop Mitchell from helping me to get emancipated had done, it taught me that do-gooder syndrome was a real disease that caused more problems than it solved. Not to mention I was getting some hostile looks from some of Junior’s friends and a few adults I couldn’t necessarily put a name to so I didn’t know how they related to the situation. I do know that one of them was a guy related to a property that was directly across from the main gate of the Homeplace and he and his people hadn’t been happy to discover that I’d not only repaired the fence where they’d been driving their four-wheelers and dirt bikes through and onto my property, I’d added cross bar pieces and the occasional tire spike in unexpected places.

Since I’d posted the No Hunting and No Trespassing notice in the newspaper as required by law and registered the what and the why with the county, one of the things I did after church was go around and post the signs that I’d purchased the previous day. I’d also been reminded that I needed to pay the property taxes. Oh brother, that would have been a huge mess, so I made a point on my calendar to pay them before the end of November from here on out. I’d also made sure to get the ag exemption renewed on all the acreage except for the couple that the Homeplace sat on.

The remainder of the daylight hours I spent raking the leaves away from the house with my new rakes and spraying the bug spray around the exterior with my new pumper sprayer. What. A. Job. But what was worse, gross, or good depending on how you looked at it was that by the time I’d made a circuit of the house, those nasty little cockroaches were scurrying out of the leaves and away from the spray which put them on the side of the house. Those I was fast enough to catch I sprayed with an immediate-kill spray. And I found where there were some cracks in the foundation, and access under the house in a crawl space that might be what is giving the demon-spawn a way in, so I took the expanding foam with the roach kill in it and started filling in the cracks and made a note to find Dad’s chemical suit and see if I could make it fit so I could crawl under the house and spray there too. I knew I’d be either sealing the bugs in or out or both but at least I hoped that it would help me get a handle on things. And since there was no rain in the forecast for at least a week, I also sprinkled borax mixed with ant killer and hoped that would help as well. Next order of business was to also start treating for carpenter ants and termites. I had the chemicals ordered but they weren’t in yet. I decided since I had the spray made up to make another pass in and around the pantry area.

I had finally managed to get the food storage areas under control and looking like Mom and Memaw always insisted they look. Off the kitchen is a housekeeper’s planning area and a butler’s area in addition to a really large under the stair pantry space. I’ve been lining everything up neatly in those places, trying to keep like with like with Mom’s FIFO (first in/first out) system. I haven’t gone so far as to write purchase dates on the tops of the cans like they did, but I figured it might come to that at some point if I kept buying things like I had. I put the bags of flour and pasta in the freezer. It only ran part of the day but by putting bottles of water in the bottom and having them freeze, I was able to get it to hold things overnight. I left one shelf empty so that I could pre-freeze things for the freez dryer so that it would take a shorter time to get the job done. After 48 hours in the freezer, and once I had a hard sided and mouse-proof container, I would rotate the flour out of the freezer and add bay leaves to keep the weevils under control. There’s another space I use for drinks and stuff. Off the billiard room is a wine closet where I store all the jars of juice concentrates, flavored waters, and other stuff like that. Then there is what Mom called the Summer Kitchen area which is next to the Loggia.

The Summer Kitchen is an open-air room that is just outside the garage bays. The garage bays are the old carriage house, or at least the upstairs is still an apartment type place with a little kitchenette, but that’s not the summer kitchen. The summer kitchen is really one of those fancy outdoor kitchens. It was probably meant for parties and stuff like that. It has a set of enclosed stairs that goes up to the carriage apartment. Mitchell used to go up there to get away because the family drama used to stress him out as badly as it did Dad even though Dad was sometimes the middle of it all. But what I mean is that Mitchell discovered that under the stairs was a hidden storage area and that each stair was also a hidden storage space. Mitchell cleaned out that area a long time ago. I used to needle him and call it his playhouse but he kinda didn’t mind because in a way that’s what it was.

For a while after I moved to the Homeplace by myself I tried … I don’t know … I almost turned the area into a shrine until I realized that Mitchell would never have wanted that. He wanted that space to be useful. And that’s where I have stored all the bulk stuff in the big buckets like Mom and Memaw used to store stuff like that. I supposed I could have slept there and saved myself some buggy nightmares, but it just didn’t seem right. So yeah, all the bulk storage stuff goes there in the carriage house. It isn’t going to be able to stay that way, I’m worried if those buckets are going to get too heavy for the floor, but I am slowly pairing it down as I find ways to store it in the main house without causing a bug buffet.

When it got too late to work outside, I drew what blackout curtains weren’t already closed and sat down to work on my to-do list for the next week. I needed to spray all the window ledges inside and out again but that had to wait until I could be outside for a while so the fumes could dissipate. I needed to spray the fireplaces as well. In a week I needed to respray around the exterior of the house as a follow up. I needed to check and/or replace all the roach motels I had laying around. I needed to run power to the ceiling fan in the master bedroom so it would run as things got warmer and the little rechargeable fan was no longer sufficient. When it got too hot, I would use the electric during the day to cool the house off unless there was a brown out and I’d see if the propane could be set so that it would only run the AC unit that cooled that part of the house. Or maybe I could set it to run one of those portable air conditioners.

With my plans at least penciled in, including which bread recipes I wanted to try next[1][2], I finished one of my last bookkeeping assignments in peace as well as did my own bookkeeping (ouch), and it was finally off to bed before I drained the batteries dry.

---

[1] Sweet Orange Bread: Bread Machine Sweet Orange Bread
[2] Whole wheat honey bread: Whole Wheat Honey Bread

 

[sssarawolf]

Again, thank you.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 17​

“Mina? Is the ceasefire thing for real?”

I turned to look at Knox as we listened to the radio broadcast at the Florida Caverns State Park[1], part of our April adventure.

“I … think so. At least I think the people reporting on it believe it is real.”

“Uh …”

I sighed. “Grown-ups can be strange.”

“I know that. It’s just everyone was all for the war and now they are for the ceasefire. I don’t know what to believe.”

I wasn’t sure what to believe either. And not just about the ceasefire. There was a celebration at all the camp sites. A couple of people were even crying, and I found out later that it was because they thought that meant their kids were coming home. I wasn’t against that, but I was still angry that Mitchell would never be coming home and the people that killed my parents were going to just get to go on with life while ours had been so totally changed. The other thing I was dealing with was that I’d been called and texted by a few people from the old church and was getting “news” that wasn’t welcome. I knew they had the best of intentions, but I wanted no part of it and didn’t want to start up the old fight with Tessa since we’d come to at least have a semi-peaceful relationship with a lot less drama.

I tried to be mature, tried to set a good example for the twins, but I wound up busting down in tears after they went to sleep. I thought I was being quiet, but they must have heard me because I wound up with one on each side of me hugging me where I was on the floor in the front area. I didn’t tell them about the calls from what used to be my home. I was able to keep that from them. The rest? They knew; I didn’t even have to explain it. They understood and that was part of their confusion. We were supposed to be happy that the ceasefire finally took place, but we’d already lost so much that the ceasefire didn’t mean the same thing to us that it did to most people.

I slept up on the platform bed with them that night, one on each side of me, and I’m being honest and saying that it was probably more comforting for me than that they needed it. For whatever reason, the ceasefire made me realize that I would never be a kid again. I had known it before, but that night set it in stone in a way it hadn’t been before. Before I was playing at my new position as head of the family. With the ceasefire I knew playtime was over and while we would still “adventure” for the twins’ sakes, that was me being the adult in their lives and not just playing with them as their sister.

The joy of the ceasefire continued to play out the remainder of my custody week in April. Everywhere we turned there were parades, political rallies of one sort or the other, patriotism to the point of absurdity in my eyes. I did my best to enjoy the time with the twins but after the days of hopping from state park to state park to other parks and historical markers I’d had enough of everyone else’s happy-happy. Because to be honest I just couldn’t believe in it. And it didn’t really impact the potential disasters I was already facing and addressing in my day to day. I decided that while the ceasefire seemed nice on the surface, it didn’t stop my need to plan how to get custody of the twins and make sure no one pulled a fast one on me.

The last two days I stopped at several farmers’ markets as we drove along the coast sightseeing, or at least as much as the Coast Guard allowed it. Those that were in the panhandle or north Florida, I stopped and dropped that stuff off at the Homeplace and gave the twins a look at what all I’d accomplished thus far. They were blown away by the empty third floor and laughed when I showed them the barn which now held everything that I would need help with.

We secured all the food in the refrigerator and then I set off more bug bombs in the barn after sweeping up the corpses that hadn’t made it through the last gas attack. There were only a couple of corpses in the roach motels in the house which told me that spraying the outside of the house was the missing piece of my strategy and that I also needed to keep the leaves raked away from the house and outbuildings. We stayed one night at the Homeplace and discovered they were still doing the brown outs and I couldn’t find any timeline of when that would stop. It made me wonder if they were as confident in the ceasefire as they claimed, or if maybe the economy was worse off than they were letting on. Hard thoughts to think on when other people my age were talking about proms and high school graduation parties, especially now that the ceasefire had been declared. Just one more reason to celebrate that I couldn’t find a reason to enjoy.

On the way back to Tampa I stopped at more places, including the Produce Station on Hillsborough Ave where I picked up a real bonanza. In total what I picked up was asparagus, broccoli, strawberries, blueberries, greens, cucumbers, nectarines, peaches, potatoes, tomatoes, bell pepper, carrot, lettuce, mushroom, more peanuts, squash, strawberry, sweet corn, garlic, and onions.

Once we got back to Tessa, I took care of what I had told Tessa that I would. The twins and I gleaned the trees in the yard and helped Mr. Moose again for shares of his stuff which included Valencia oranges, carambolas, guavas, and papayas. I was about to get out of there and head back north when Doug’s sister and mother showed up. I could tell that Tessa hadn’t expected them. In case I’ve never mentioned it, Tessa does not like surprises. It doesn’t give her time to figure out all the angles of the people involved and how she should act and other stuff like that. It makes her sound mercenary or manipulative and despite the way things have gone down, she isn’t. At least not any more than most people are. For her it is more like a protective instinct.

“Tessa!”

“Hey,” she said, trying to sound friendly though the twins and I both knew right away that something must be up. Tessa was putting on her fake again after being more relaxed with us than she normally was.

I said, “Tess, I know you’ve got things to do and want to keep the kids settled so I’ll …”

Then Doug’s mother said, “I’m glad you’re here. I need to talk to you.”

“About?” I asked, immediately on guard.

“Hmm … it’s … private.”

“There’s nothing you need to say to me that Tessa shouldn’t be part of,” I told her, flummoxing a part of their plan. “I don’t have secrets,” I added.

“Excuse me?”

“Let’s just say people are trying to … er … help me out I guess and have been filling me in on things at your church.”

“Um …”

“For instance, trying to take the twins on activities without the lawyer knowing about it and without a permission slip signed by him and me as required by the Judge.”

Tessa goes, “What?!” And it wasn’t fake. The information had knocked her flat. Someone(s) were keeping her out of the loop.

I sighed and turned to her. “Look Tess, I don’t want to burden you with more than is your responsibility but … people are talking, the same way it started up with Dad and Mom. Some people there seem to have time to do nothing but talk but they’re doing it with zero facts or only half the story. The few that have come to me directly I have set straight or directed them to ask the lawyer, assuming he’ll speak with them. I’ve been trying to ignore it, not make it to be more than it is, but it looks like people want to take it that direction.”

Doug’s sister tried to get nasty and I could tell right away that Tessa and her mother-in-law both knew that was not the way to communicate with me. “Now listen here, there’s all sorts of stories of what you are getting into,” she said.

My response was to call her on it. “And how do you come by these stories? Tell me some facts and not just assumptions that make people out to be what you would expect.”

“Don’t you tell me …”

“Too late. I already have. I’ve been trying really hard to keep the lawyer out of this nonsense. For Tessa’s sake because she doesn’t need the stress, for the twins’ sake because they would get caught up in the middle, for my own because it is counterproductive to drag out history and just how wrong people were and what it created. My parents weren’t the only ones that left the church after that, and I don’t have any personal desire to create another schism or participate in any kind of revenge. I’ve even tried to ignore it because your parents are in church leadership. But it looks like I’m not going to be able to. Excuse me, I need to make a call.”

“Mina …” Tessa looked at me and I could see she was asking me to stop.

“Tess, I tried it your way … ignoring it and hoping people would just stop. But it isn’t working. Now people are saying that I’m no better than a slut …”

“Mina!”

“Sorry Tess, boil it down and that is exactly what they are saying even if they aren’t using that particular word, or at least not that it has gotten back to me yet. The lawyer knows who I work for. He’s even dropped by at my employer’s law firm unannounced because he was in the area and wanted to meet Mr. Barnes. I cannot tell you how embarrassing that was because there were clients in the waiting area. The judge ordered it based on a call that had come into his office. It was an anonymous call so no, I don’t know who did it but there’s not that many people that would go to the trouble. I do know that the caller was female and had the case number which wouldn’t be easy to get since it is in family court and that stuff isn’t public record. That means it is someone with access to that information in some other way. And they haven’t just called once. Next time the judge’s clerk has been directed to trace the number and see if a charge of harassment is applicable.”

I saw both Doug’s sister and mother swallow which told me either they were the ones, or they had a hand in it. I let Tessa have that information with my eyes and she got very closed off so I knew there had already been some discussion behind the scenes she never thought I would find out about. What that meant beyond that, I wasn’t in the mood to pick at.

I reminded them, “The lawyer already has family that goes to y’all’s church. He may already be aware of the unfounded gossiping that is occurring. I don’t know, but I’m required by him to report anything like this that comes up. What he does with it will be up to him and the judge. But regardless of what they do I suggest you pass along a message if you know who is doing this. It isn’t going to be handled Dad’s way this time. He just walked away from that church and let people be people. This time it is going to be handled my way because I learned from the mistakes that were made then.”

“Now just a …” Doug’s mom said, trying to sound reasonable.

“No. If this goes the direction it did with my parents, I will ask the judge to remove the twins from going there completely. I’ll make sure why not only makes it into local media, but I will take it to the church convention leadership and then they can do their own investigation with the evidence of the previous goings on and now the evidence I have from this time as well. Someone needs to decide just how far they want to risk things. Because I will find out who it is this time, and I will take them to civil court and will get it in the public record for all eternity and they can deal with it come Judgment Day.”

Tessa looked at me in frozen shock. I think it was at that point that she realized she couldn’t have things both ways and that she was going to have to pick a side. They also seemed to realize they were no longer dealing with a little kid, though how they could have by then I don’t know. I could just see the realization spreading across Tessa’s and her mother-in-law’s faces. Doug’s sister looked mutinous, but Doug’s mother found some common sense. Or played at it.

“Well, this wasn’t the way I wanted to discuss this but yes, I was concerned with the stories that I was hearing.”

“Unless someone has come to north Florida and investigated whatever they think they know, then they know nothing. They’re making assumptions to scratch an itch for some vain and bizarre reason. Whoever is telling those stories, let them know they have skin in the game, and I have facts that counter any of their lies and that I will, without hesitation, no matter who it turns out to be, take them to court over it. I am protecting the twins from that type of situation happening again. And if they are throwing shade at Tessa? Same thing applies. She doesn’t need this load of manure. She’s pregnant and has little kids of her own she is trying to raise right. She and Doug both don’t need this, and I shouldn’t have to explain to grown people why.”

I turned to Tessa. “I’m leaving. I haven’t said anything to the twins about this. The ceasefire has them confused enough. They’re happy about it but at the same time if the adults of the world had done it sooner, maybe our parents and Mitchell wouldn’t be taking up space in a cemetery.” She blanched. Turning back to Doug’s mother and ignoring his sister, “I’m serious as a heart attack. Leave the twins and Tessa and Doug alone. Tessa and I might not always see eye to eye, but I know for a fact she isn’t stupid enough to say some of the things I’ve been hearing.”

I grabbed the garbage bag with the rotten fruit that couldn’t be saved and carried it over to the twins who’d just come out to see why I hadn’t left yet.

“One more,” I said. “Make sure this goes in the yard debris can and goes down Thursday night with the recycling. ‘K? I better not hear that Tessa was lifting this, Capiche?”

Knox said, “And Nat and I will pick up the fruit that falls on the ground too.”

“Good deal Lucille. Remember everything?”

“Got it covered Mina,” he responded with our code phrase.

I turned and headed to the van that I had been smart enough to park outside the gate so I couldn’t be blocked in. Tessa said, “Text me when you get there.”

“You still want me to?”

“Yes,” she answered with no notable hesitation. Detent for a while longer.

---

[1] Florida Caverns State Park

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 18​

I wish I could say I was the better person or at least a better person, but nope, I’d learned too well. Last time and the next time. I pulled over in the parking lot of the Bravo grocery store and made a quick email to the lawyer and uploaded it to their email system. I was about to get out of the van to go do some last-minute shopping when the lawyer called. I had to explain everything. It was like being in a deposition. He said to let him do some digging, and he’d deal with it. I almost asked what it was going to cost me, but I had to let it go. He had the retainer money and I’d already figured I’d never see it again between one thing and another.

I ran into the store to get my list of items checked off and get back on the road. I got rice and several different kinds of canned beans as well as bags of dried beans. They had a bunch of meat on sale, but I skipped the chicken feet, pig feet, and tripe. Blech. I did get a backhoe load of ground beef that I planned on browning and washing and then freeze-drying. I got canned cheese and canned butter, but they didn’t have much on the shelf which told me imports were still a problem. Then I decided to use my adulting bone and be smart, and that anything that looked like an import I would buy some of just because it might turn out to be the last of it for a while.

I’m not a coffee drinker but I do like tea. I avoid real sugar and use mostly monk fruit, but I had to have real sugar for some preserving so I got the two largest bags they had and stocked up on the different kinds of salts and seasonings that I knew weren’t grown in the States. I picked up a bunch of chocolate but mostly the baking and cooking kind because I was not a chocoholic and neither were the twins thank goodness. The dried soups in the brands Mom had always kept on hand also went into the buggy. I was getting some looks, so I grabbed the phone like someone had just called and played an actress enough to win an Oscar. “I know Poppy. I have the list. I won’t forget. I promise.” I also rolled my eyes and did a few other things that added to the whole act.

I felt funny lying like that, but I also didn’t want anyone to think I was a girl alone with no back up. I mean I was, but I didn’t want people to know that. I hurried over to the seasoning area and put in several of the Badia brand seasonings that Mom had always kept on hand but that I knew were getting low, and then finished my shopping. I used the cash card to pay muttering under my breath about Poppy being crazy and he better not kill me since this was his list. The woman at the cash register snickered a bit because I guess I’m a pretty good actress. Then I rushed out to the van, quickly tossing everything in, and locking the doors behind me. I didn’t sigh in relief yet.

I stashed what I could in the frig and then in the cooler I’d dug out of the Homeplace flotsam that I’d used this time and then got going. I had miles to go and probably a couple of checkpoints to get through.

I hadn’t been kidding about being in a situation that I now had to inform the lawyer of what was taking place. To say he wasn’t happy that I hadn’t notified him immediately was a bit of an understatement, but I countered by saying that I was trying to go the mature route and not overreact; that people were people, and it wasn’t much different than my parents had experienced at the hands of some people at the church. I think the speed that I did it may have caught a few individuals off guard. They didn’t have time to circle the wagons and make me out to be a squirrely kid.

The lawyer almost immediately put a call into the church leadership and did what I had only threatened to do, which was call the local church convention representative. And things apparently moved quickly from that point. I was winding down for the night, not that I was exactly winding down, when I got a call from Doug. I knew he was out of town so that meant an emergency of some sort.

“Doug?!”

He sounded more serious than peeved. “Why didn’t you discuss this with me before taking action?”

I took a moment to try and word things so they wouldn’t set off WW3. “Because whether you know it or not, or are even willing to believe it, I appreciate that you and Tessa are in a position that can be awkward. I also must take care of my end, my responsibilities, without always running to someone else, except in this instance the lawyer and judge have rules that I am required to follow. The lawyer already told me that I should have spoken to him as soon as I was made aware the first time that there were people saying … certain things. I’m not certain what he …”

That’s when he let me know what had already taken place and that yes, the Convention rep had requested a meeting with all the church leadership to address what was happening.

“Doug, I didn’t know. Believe me or not I didn’t know how fast he was going to act. I got called on the carpet, I didn’t know he was going to do the same thing to other people.”

“I … wouldn’t say that is what is happening but, next time talk to me first.”

“Doug …”

“I can’t fix things I don’t know are broken.”

I winced. How to communicate things without setting him off? What did I learn under Mr. Barnes’ tutelage?

“Doug, it isn’t your responsibility to do that. That isn’t your burden. You need to focus on Tessa and your littles. People that expect more than that of you … well, they either are intentionally not understanding or they’re simply being ignorant. The judge and lawyers are the parties deciding how things are going to go with this custody. And in case it isn’t clear, I’m not just given free rein here. I have monthly reports I must fill out and stuff like that. Yes, I’m emancipated but the Judge is kinda holding that over my head and I must keep proving myself over and over. Which is fine, I get it. At least sorta. And because of the family court stuff I also must provide information to them for that as well.”

“What … what kind of information?” he asked hesitantly, and it surprised me that I could hear him at least trying not to blow a fuse.

“That I’m not bucking the educational plan we all agreed on. That I’m not behaving recklessly with the twins’ part of the estate. That I’m fulfilling my obligations to the estate and to the twins. Basically, just stuff that proves I’m doing what I’m supposed to without excuses and rationalizations for any of it.”

“The reports are about you?”

“Yes. If you look at the custody paperwork it does say what I’m required to turn into the lawyer and through him to the judge. They lay extra responsibilities on me when they think necessary.” I wanted to add, at least until I’m 18 and the custody arrangements come to an end, but that wouldn’t gain me anything and could create more problems.

“Fine,” he said once again trying to take control of things. “This time. What you need to understand is that even if you don’t think we have any responsibilities here, we do. People look at us like we are crazy.”

“Well it isn’t any of their business and I don’t know why you would even care. You saw how they treated my parents. It doesn’t say a lot for their so-called Christian behavior. I was trying to keep Tessa out of it. She’s way preggers … er … I mean she is in her last trimester and doesn’t need anything to cause her stress. She’s … sensitive. Maybe that isn’t what she is normally, but right now she is. And you’re protective. I get it and for what it is worth I approve … of your protection of her I mean. But someone … or maybe more than one person … has now created a situation whether they meant to or not that I’m not able to just ignore things in favor of helping you to protect Tessa. I’m legally bound to report things to the lawyer and, like I said, through him to the Judge. You are now getting a small taste of the hotseat I’ve been in from nearly the beginning. Neither the lawyer nor the judge are lightweights. Nor are they lenient. They believe that their rules should be followed, to the letter, or consequences will rain down. People in their offices know people, or know how to make things happen. What has been set in motion is nothing that I can control. And if they think civil action needs to take place, they’ll do it. So, I’m not asking to be given names … but if you know names, do them a favor and tell them to knock it off because they aren’t helping anyone and might wind up in some legal trouble of their own.”

“Surely it won’t come to that.”

“At this point I don’t know what is going to happen. It is out of my hands. Just … keep Tessa out of it if you can. I’m not asking you to lie to her, but … make sure your parents … and sister … don’t try and draw her in even with the best of intentions. I’m … I’m worried about her. She seems … fragile. Um … like Mom was sometimes.”

“She’s not like your mother.”

Trying not to snap back I said, “I’m not saying she is, but you know that stuff can be hereditary. Just … just look after her. I can’t change what happened in the past any more than she can. But … we’ve got a present that we are all dealing with.”

He was silent for a moment before asking, “If it comes down to it, can you take the twins earlier.”

“Of course but … why? And are … look, just explain it.”

“The doctor doesn’t like Tessa’s blood pressure.”

“Are the twins giving her trouble? I’ll talk to them.”

“It … isn’t them. Just … make yourself available if the doctor puts her on bedrest.”

“Of course. Keep me up on what’s going on? I’m not asking you to snitch to Tessa or on her. I know she is private about stuff. Just … you’ll let me know? Right?”

“Yes. I … I’m glad we had this conversation.”

“Um. Sure Doug. Just let me know.”

I didn’t know what was weirder. Doug and I not going at it loggerheads, or him actually saying that he was glad he’d talked to me. Geez.

 

[Jeepcats27]

What a delightful treat of chapters! thank you Kathy!

 

[Mr Bill]

Fine reading. Thanks

 

[sssarawolf]

Al the chapters are great.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter 19​

Once I got back to the Homeplace it was back to all work and no play to take care of the worries on my mind. It took me nearly a week to get everything preserved and put where it belonged. I just couldn’t shake the feeling that there were problems I wasn’t seeing. Nothing was overt but it was like having eyes boring into my back all the time. It bothered me so much that on top of the regular cleaning and stuff I started to work on fixing the shutters on the outside of the house and get them repaired so I could open and close/lock them. It wasn’t fun or easy, but I used Dad’s handyman books to teach myself what I needed to know. Yeah, I made a few mistakes, but the mistakes were fixable and I learned from them. After the shutters were all operational, it made the house dark, especially upstairs, which also didn’t help my mood any.

Add in the weather – more rain than normal for that time of year – and I was getting Fritzy. Yard, road, and fence maintenance was about to add to my workload because it was just turning that time of year. I needed to get the water catchment system on the barn up and running because that is sometime what waters the stuff in the hoophouse where all Mom’s potted trees and bushes were located. The system used gravity, sprayers, and a battery operated timer. And there was only me to do it. When I was growing up we all pitched in and it made it fun even if it was a lot of work. But the results always made Mom and Dad happy, and it rolled down hill making us happy. Now everything was just reminding me that things would never be that way again. Overwhelmed and emotional? I’d say so.

The news that things weren’t getting any better in the economy despite the continuance of the ceasefire, plus skyrocketing crime, didn’t make me feel any better either. I got serious about learning to shoot, and sure enough Mr. Dunst gave me the address of a shooting range that specialized in teaching females the finer points of gun ownership, weapon maintenance, and how to shoot without hurting yourself. Better yet, they also made sure you knew how to shoot what you aimed at, and that you knew what to aim at and when and how to keep yourself out of legal trouble. They also helped me to buy ammunition to replace what I used without asking a lot of questions about my age and things like that since I already had a rifle and handgun that I could use. And for bonus points the wife of the owner of the place even agreed to teach me how to reload the calibers that I used and even taught me how to make my own shotgun shells of various kinds depending on what I was shooting at.

Mr. Dunst had told me I had some feral pigs that were causing problems until he “cleared them out.” And he said he’d found where someone had put some baby gators in the large pond that was on the property next to the Homeplace.

“Did you do it?” he asked me.

“Ugh. No. All I need to do is wake up one morning to find that a gator is sitting on the porch waiting on breakfast.”

He wiped his nose with an old bandana letting me know that he believed me and thought it kinda funny. Well, I didn’t find it funny … the baby gators or that someone would think I was that stupid. That was just one more thing to add to the long worry list I was growing and cultivating.

What happened in April bothered me so much that I kept our adventuring to the Homeplace for May. What also bothered me was that Mr. Dunst reported he’d been finding game cameras in the pine acreage, but they were pointed towards weird places like the gates and towards the Homeplace. And when I started doing my own investigating of the Main Forty, I found them as close as the orchard and it looked like someone had even tried to have one almost on top of the house because I found the remains of a base attached to a tree that pointed towards the window of the master bedroom.

Well I’m not stupid, I documented everything. Removed the cameras after taking pictures of them. And then talked to a deputy that went to the church. His father was a deacon there, so he was brought in on it too. Let’s just say that at least one of the parties installing the cameras was not smart. They left one or two photos on the memory cards and his family went to the church as well. What I didn’t know until I did some digging was that the guy was on probation for multiple drunk and disorderlies, and leaving the scene of an accident. Stupid is as stupid does and a convicted felon holding a gun? Geez. Yeah, he got VOP’d, but not for local stuff but for one of his convictions out of Alabama and my name or property never got brought into it. The deputy did sit me down and have a discussion with me.

“You’re seventeen.”

“Yes Sir.”

He chuckled. “Drop the Sir … for now. Call me Duff.”

“Er … Deputy Duff? Really?”

“It makes the kids laugh and I don’t want to scare your little brother and sister when you have them around.”

I sobered up. “Ok … Duff. But?”

“Let’s just say that you have an interesting bit of property in an interesting location.”

Wondering what he meant I said, “My parents never mentioned anything about that.”

He scratched a sideburn and admitted, “They probably weren’t aware. They weren’t here often enough to disturb things. But you are and it has made it more work for certain people to use the property.”

Wondering why people thought they could “use” my property for anything, much less something that would be more work because I as around I asked, “Would these people be connected to the ones that live across the county road from my main gate? Because they didn’t like losing a place to ride their ATVs on? Or hunt or whatever they were doing?”

His mustache twitched then he answered, “That’s some of it but it isn’t that family so much as the friends of that family, including some their kids hang out with.”

“Mr. Dunst is the Crew Boss that runs the pine straw collection on my property. Is he part of it?”

“Karl Dunst? No. Karl Dunst’s oldest son? Might be one of the problems.”

“Mr. Dunst told me his son is doing hard time at CCI in Punta Gorda and if anyone claiming to be him or a friend of his came around, I was supposed to call him immediately. I think Mr. Dunst may have disowned him or something like that.”

“That’s the story. And is probably true. And good advice, but make it me as well,” he said handing me his card. “But what I’m saying is because the property was all but vacant most of the time for so many years, certain types of people got used to free and easy access. Just be aware and make home security top of your priority list.”

“It already is,” I told him with a look that said things and he was smart enough to not bother asking. I also added, “And two can play that camera game but I’m better at it. Now that I know what I’m up against I’ve taken some … precautions … and will add to them.”

“Is that why you put no trespass and no hunting signs out?”

“No, not really. Mostly because in case the twins were here and playing outside. Stupid people are just stupid enough and I wanted to head some of that off. When my older brother was still alive, and we were younger … the twins weren’t even born yet … I remember Dad going ballistic because someone was out in the woods shooting guns when Mitchell and I were out raking up pine needles for the flower beds around the house. Before he went off to Basic, Mitchell reminded me of that and told me not to go wandering around by myself during certain times of the year unless I was wearing a bunch of bright orange. Then I read a story in the Lake City Reporter about a couple of guys that got busted for poaching and another article in the Suwannee Valley Times about these migrants that got busted for rustling some goats, and they ‘accidentally’ shot the farmer’s son when they thought he was a goat they’d come to steal. Well, I don’t have animals to rustle but I have the twins.”

Giving me a thoughtful look he said, “Hmmm. I heard you’ve been taking classes at Sheepdog Tactical.”

I shrugged. “I was ignorant on a subject that I shouldn’t have been. I decided to get educated by people that know what they are doing and who will help me stay out of trouble about it.”

He chuckled. “You work for James Barnes all right.”

Bottom line is that as a young newb that owns a large chunk of land in my own right, I’m on the radar. No one is against me, especially since there are some certain people for me, but I still need to watch my p’s and q’s and not make work for people by being stupid and “uneducated” about things.

For my part I started researching the area and hiding it under “genealogy.” Mrs. Padfield was happy, and I bought my way in to the local research club with photos and original documentation and being willing to help out with the occasional bit of research in the county archives since I sometimes had to go there for Mr. Barnes or Mr. Musgrove. It also gave me access to gossip that wouldn’t show up on any paper or computer … or at least I wouldn’t find it without a lot of effort and adding things together. It was simply easier to listen to those older ladies have at it. It might have been gossip to them, but it was “intel” to me … or that’s what it would have been called if I used the same words I’d started to hear at Sheepdog. Back then I thought those people were strung a little tight, but after all this time I’m not sure that’s the right term or not, especially given what happened.

I got suspicious that if those no-gooders wanted to really create problems for me, they could bring social services into it, and I wouldn’t have to wait for Doug’s sister or anyone else back in Tampa to do it. That’s why I told the twins we were hanging around the Homeplace for May.

“Look, I know … okay? I promised you adventures but I have got to have some help to get some of this stuff done and if the Homeplace is going to be your home …”

“Yes!”

I gave them a small grin. “Yeah well … that means you get to help decide about stuff. But to decide things so they don’t blow up in our faces you need to see what is going on. So, is it okay if we don’t go …”

“Yes!” they both nearly yelled again. More quietly Nat said, “It’s just going to be a different kind of adventure this time.”

I breathed a sigh of relief but by the time I did go to pick them up I also had things planned out so that we would do some projects that went along with the last bit of school they needed to finish. Biggest non-house fun project was going blueberry and sparkleberry picking around the acreage. The domestic blueberry bushes Mom planted were finally really paying off, especially after I remember to fertilize them with the special acidic fertilizer the farm co-op recommended. I also saved the coffee grounds from the kitchenette at the law office and worked them into the soil around the bushes. There were so many berries we picked them every day to get the ripe ones and had to put berry nets over them to keep the birds from shanghaiing the entire crop. And as a treat I made blueberry bread machine bread.[1]

We also did things like make slime and all sorts of other things like Mom used to do with us when we were little - the twins loved it - but I also worked the wiggins out about getting the Homeplace in better order. It was cleaned, top to bottom, bugs no longer a problem, but I needed to go through that stuff in the barn and start making the Homeplace a home and not just a place.

---

[1] Blueberry Bread: Bread Machine Blueberry Bread: Uncommonly Fresh