Halversham Page 2

  “Hey, Paulie. It’s been so long. How are you?” Aunt Magda said, spreading her arms for a hug. Paul easily enveloped her in his tall frame as Andy watched from the car to give the two of them some time alone.

  “I’m fine, Mag. How are you doing?”

  “I’m good. Look at you! You’re more handsome than ever,” she said, smiling fondly. And then, in a more serious tone, “I’m so sorry about Patricia. She was such a wonderful woman.”

  “Yes, she was.” Paul shrugged. “You didn’t come for the funeral.”

  “Well… I… I wanted to,” Aunt Magda stammered, wringing her hands. “I really did, Paulie, but you know how things are here.”

  “How’s he treating you?”

  Her eyes shifted and she gave a sad smile. “The same way he’s always treated me.”

  “I don’t understand why you’re still with him. He’s...”

  “Is that Andy right there?” Aunt Magda cut her brother off, her face brightening as she spotted Andy in the car. Paul turned and nodded as his son got out. “Oh, my. It is Andy. He’s all grown and handsome. Just like you.” She smiled at her brother. “Come here, Andy.” Andy walked toward them and paused in front of Aunt Magda so she could take a look at him.

  “Hello, Aunt Magda. How are you?” They hugged.

  “I’m fine. I’m so sorry about your mother.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Look at me, keeping you out in the yard. Come on, come inside.” Aunt Magda waved them in, and Andy and Paul followed her into the small cozy cottage with a thatched roof, chimney, and a fireplace. She pointed at the couch, motioning for them to sit. “Can I get you two a drink?”

  “I can’t stay for long, Mag. I have to drop Andy off at the farmhouse before I head back to the city,” Paul said.

  “You’re leaving right away?”

  “Yes. I have an early flight to San Francisco tomorrow.”

  Aunt Magda’s jaw dropped and her eyes became wide. She glanced at Andy and then back at her brother.

  “Can’t you postpone your trip, Paulie? This boy just lost his mother.”

  “I can’t. I already canceled three important meetings when Pat died. My business is in trouble. I have to go this time.” He paused. “I was hoping you could keep an eye on things while Andy stays at the farmhouse for a month.”

  “You’re going to leave him alone at the farmhouse for a month?” Paul nodded. “Nonsense! Andy, you’ll stay here with us.”

  “It’s okay, Aunt Magda. I’ll be all right at the farmhouse. I want to spend some time doing the things my mom used to do. Tending to her garden and stuff.”

  “Of course,” Aunt Magda said, nodding.

  “But I promise I’ll come and visit you every day.”

  “You’ll have to. I’ll cook for you and get some meat on those bones,” she said, tapping on his arm.

  “You don’t have to trouble yourself, Mag. Don’t we have a cook and housekeeper at the farmhouse? Karl something?”

  “Oh, I had to fire Karl Maine when I caught him carting away some of the silverware in the kitchen. Gave him an earful, too, but not before getting back every piece he stole.”

  “So we don’t have a housekeeper anymore?”

  “I hired Piffy Dawson. She does a terrific job.”

  “Great. So she can take care of things while Andy’s there.” Paul smiled. “Where’s Matt and Corrine?”

  “Matt’s still out. Corrine, well, I don’t know where she is. She’s hardly home. Leaves in the morning and comes back really late. She dropped out of school three years ago.” Aunt Magda sighed. Corrine it seemed, hadn’t changed.

  Paul nodded, a blank expression on his face. “Well, maybe she’ll be home more often now that Andy’s in town.”

  “Yeah. Maybe he can talk some sense into her for wasting time wandering about.”

  Paul nodded again. A second later, he looked at his watch and said, “I should get going. I have to take Andy over and it’s getting late.”

  “You should come another time and stay for dinner. Both of you. You never stay long enough for coffee to get cold.”

  Paul laughed and rose. “I will, Mag. Another time. I just have to settle some things in San Francisco.”

  “Good,” Aunt Magda said. “Kids grow up real fast, Paulie. You should make the best of the years you have with your boy.” She touched Andy’s cheek and smiled. “Don’t make the same mistake you did with Pat.”

  Paul’s eyebrows came together in a wrinkle. For once, his chilly disposition was chipped by Aunt Magda’s wise words. Seconds later, he hugged his sister and kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you soon.”

  “Bye, Aunt Magda. I’ll come by tomorrow.” Andy rose and hugged the stocky woman again.

  “I can send a bowl of porridge later if you like.”

  “That’s okay. I just ate on the way here. I’m going to take a shower and go to bed early.”

  “Poor child. You must be tired. I stocked up the refrigerator so you can have some milk and cake if you get hungry. If you need anything else, just ask Piffy. She’ll be there when you arrive.”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  Father and son exited the cottage and headed for the car, followed by two cackling geese on their heels. Aunt Magda was right behind them.

  “Andy, can you please wait in the car while I speak to your Aunt Magda for a minute?” Paul said.

  “Sure.” Andy got in the car, closed the door, and watched the exchange between the two.

  His father said something to Aunt Magda, and she shook her head with eyes closed. Paul spread his hands before him, trying to reason with her about something, but it seemed like she wouldn’t hear of it. She looked defiant, but in a gentle, motherly way. The disappointment on his father’s face was plain to see. Finally, he slipped his hand into his coat and removed a thick envelope. Aunt Magda shook her head insistently, refusing the envelope, but Andy’s father clamped it in her hands with a stern look. Moments later, he hugged his sister one more time, kissed her forehead, and headed for the car as she watched.

  Although Andy couldn’t hear a single word, he knew exactly what had transpired. He had been listening to bits of gossip about Uncle Matt for a while now, so it wasn’t difficult to make a reasonably accurate assumption. Based on what Andy had gathered so far, his father had been pleading with Aunt Magda to leave Uncle Matt for years, but she always refused. He even offered to get her a divorce lawyer at his own expense, but she chided him, saying, “We Catholics don’t get divorced.” She explained things away with, “Every marriage has its problems,” and “It was my fault,” and “I have to make sure Corrine has a father figure.”

  Paul had heard it all before, but there was nothing he could do. She was adamant about staying with Matt. In the end, all he could do was give her money so that she and Corrine could at least take care of themselves.

  The Porsche pulled out of Aunt Magda’s yard and snaked along dirt roads again. The sun was heading for the horizon, and both of them were clearly exhausted by the long drive. Paul didn’t slip his sunglasses back on this time, exposing the crease on his forehead. He kept a knuckle close to his lips, deep in thought until they reached the farmhouse five minutes later. Andy grabbed his bag and got out of the car with his father.

  “Are you coming in?”

  “No. It’s getting late. I should go.”

  “Goodbye then.” Andy turned and headed for the farmhouse.

  “Andy,” his father called, and Andy glanced back. Paul stood with his hands tucked in his pockets, rocking on his heels as he cleared his throat. “If you like, we can go on a holiday somewhere when I get back.”

  “Yeah, sure,” Andy said without a trace of excitement. He had stopped taking his father’s proposals and promises seriously a long time ago.

  “Okay.” Paul cleared his throat again. “Maybe you can look online and make a list of places that interest you.”

  “Sure.”

  “Good. If you need anything, call me. S
tay out of trouble, and please look out for your Aunt Magda.”

  “I will.”

  Andy watched the car until the taillights disappeared. Then he turned around, headed up the stairs, and pressed the doorbell.

  A woman opened the door. “Hello, Andy.”

  “You must be Piffy.”

  “That’s right.”

  Piffy Dawson was a widow in her fifties, looking every last day of her age with wide hips and grey hair hoisted up in a neat bun. She looked matronly in a short white dress that had seen better days. “You look tired. Can I get you anything?” she asked as soon as Andy entered the house.

  “No, thanks,” he said.

  The house was exactly the way it had been when his mother was around. Warm lights filled the front hall, and roses and lilies stood in pretty vases on the coffee tables and main table, releasing a wonderful aroma. Aunt Magda and Piffy had done a wonderful job of keeping the place clean and tidy in the three years the Monaghans had not visited.

  “Your Aunt Magda told me a lot about your mother, God bless her soul. I tried to keep the place as your mother liked it. But I never knew her, so I don’t really know if it matches,” Piffy said. “Do you like it?”

  “It looks perfect. Just how it was when she was around.”

  The woman smiled. “Would you like something to eat? I made some stew and kept it in the fridge just in case. See, I live down the road about five minutes from here. So it’s real easy for me to pop over.”

  “No thanks, Piffy. I’m going to take a shower and go straight to bed. You can go home if you want to.”

  “Here, let me take you to your room.”

  Andy grabbed his bag and followed her. His bedroom hadn’t changed much either. The floor had been polished and there were wild orchids in a vase by the window. Andy smiled as Piffy closed the door and left. Alone at last, he removed the jacket he’d been wearing since morning and sat on the bed. Through the window he watched branches dance in the warm summer breeze and listened to the wind howling for a moment before dropping his head into his hands. Seconds later, his shoulders shook and he wept.

  Chapter 2

  Sun rays streamed in through the window and warmed Andy’s stockinged toes the next morning. He had fallen asleep in his clothes last night, and woke up with puffy eyes and tousled hair. He rose and stared at himself in the full-length mirror before pausing at the window to listen to chirping robins and wrens. The sky was a brilliant blue, with only a smattering of frothy clouds passim.

  A minute later, he headed to the bathroom for a long bath, then dressed in a polo shirt and Bermuda shorts. The last thing he needed was to stay at the farmhouse and wallow in self-pity, so he made plans to walk around Halversham and revisit his mother’s favorite places.

  Piffy was carrying a pot of coffee to the table when he stepped into the dining room. It wasn’t a large room, and much like Aunt Magda’s, the kitchen was right next to it. His mother had wanted it that way so it was easier to serve guests. Plus, it was cozy.

  The older woman smiled as soon as she saw Andy. “Good morning, Andy. How are you feeling today?”

  “Adventurous.” Andy smiled. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine. Did you sleep well?” she asked, pouring him a cup of coffee. There was toast, peanut butter, and a variety of jams on the table.

  “Yes, I did,” Andy said. “Piffy, would do me a favor, please?” He picked up a piece of toast and spread peanut butter on it.

  “What is it?”

  “I plan to visit some of the places my mom used to take me to in Halversham and I won’t be back until late. Can you pack me some sandwiches for lunch?”

  “Sure. That’s a great idea.”

  “Thanks,” he said, taking a seat and munching on his toast. Piffy hurried back to the kitchen and busied herself.

  Patricia’s herb garden glowed outside the dining room windows, beckoning Andy. He pushed the final piece of toast into his mouth, gulped down his coffee, and opened the back door. He had half expected the basil, lavender, and parsley his mother had planted a long time ago replaced by some other plants, but he was pleasantly surprised. The familiar herbs were still there, flourishing under the warm summer sun. Mort was crouching on the ground, tugging on some weed around a patch of coriander.

  “Hello, Mort,” Andy called out to the gardener and longtime family friend. Patricia used to enjoy working with Mort on getting the kitchen garden planted with a variety of herbs. And in that time, Mort had proved to be an invaluable fountain of knowledge and friend.

  “Andy? Is that you?” Mort glanced up with narrowed eyes and raised his hand to shield the glare of the sun.

  The sixty-year-old gardener wore a pair of suspenders to keep his pants up, and the cuffs of his shirtsleeves and pants were rolled up to reveal a pair of gloves and black galoshes.

  “It is me, Mort. How are you?”

  Mort rose in a hurry and removed his gloves. He hadn’t changed one bit since Andy last saw him. Although wrinkled, the tall, wiry man still looked strong and capable. Cottony white hair grew unruly around the sides of his otherwise bald head, reminding Andy of Doc Brown from the movie Back to the Future. A smile broke on his lips and Andy wiggled his eyebrows at his dear old friend.

  “I am fine, my boy.” He took a brisk step toward Andy and hugged him, almost lifting him off the ground. “Oh, what a big man you are now, looking just like your father,” he said with wide smiling eyes.

  Andy smiled, so pleased the old man hadn’t changed. “You look good too, Mort. I’ve missed you. And Halversham,” he said.

  Mort’s eyes suddenly wilted and his lips curved downward. “I heard about Patricia. I am so sorry,” he said, placing a hand on Andy’s shoulder.

  “Thanks, Mort.”

  “Well, some things just happen and it is not for us to ask why. All we can do is move forward and live the best we can with what we have.” His eyebrows lifted in two bushy arcs. “How’s your old man?

  “He’s fine.”

  “Is he here?”

  “No. He had to fly to San Francisco this morning.”

  “Always a busy man.”

  “Yeah, well.” Andy didn’t quite know what to say so he averted his eyes, but the old gardener noticed it.

  “Doesn't matter, my boy. Plenty of things to do here.” Mort grinned. “What’s your plan while you’re in town?”

  “Well, today I’m planning on taking the trail my mom used to take. I want to walk by the river and feed the dogs at the foothill. See how Halversham’s changed.”

  “Oh, you’ll be surprised. Things have changed. Strange things have been happening in the garden as well,” Mort said in a conspiratorial voice, leaning close to Andy.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Andy!” Piffy’s voice exploded from the back door. Both Andy and Mort turned toward Piffy, who was standing with her hands on the door frame. “Your father’s on the phone.”

  Andy patted his pockets and remembered he had left his iPhone on the dining table. He dashed in and picked up the landline.

  “Dad?”

  “Son? Are you all right?”

  “Yes, I’m fine.”

  “Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

  “I was out in the garden talking to Mort. I left my phone on the table.”

  “I see. I almost called your Aunt Magda’s neighbors, and you know how much I hate bothering them. I wish she’d let me buy her a phone. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know I’m on my way to the airport.”

  “Oookay.” Andy dragged out the word.

  “Did you sleep well?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How’s Mort?”

  “He’s fine.”

  “Good. Did you have breakfast?”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  “Alright. I’m almost at the airport. Try to have some fun while you’re there. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Bye.”

  Andy hung up and lifted an eyebrow at the phone. The cal
l had seemed contrived, but then, his father had hardly ever called him before. At least not for something as trivial as to say he was on his way to the airport.

  Piffy stepped into the living room with a brown paper bag. “Here’s your lunch, Andy. I also included some salad, apples, cheese, and crackers in case you decide to stay out a little longer.”

  “Thanks. I’ll see you later.”

  Andy went to his room, picked up his backpack, and put the lunch bag inside. He tucked a water bottle into the side pocket and made his way to the dining room again. He checked the five missed calls from his father, then slipped the phone in his pocket before heading out.

  His first stop was the biggest convenience store in Halversham, Dorrie’s. He took two steps at a time to get to the third-floor pet section and walked past aisles displaying cat food, dog bowls, leashes, cages, and colorful toys. Finally, Andy found Wenley’s brand of rawhide and dog treats and grabbed a few packets. It was still early, and the cashier lanes downstairs only had a few shoppers queueing. One of the lanes was free, so Andy walked over and placed his items on the counter.

  “Hey—you’re Crazy Corrine’s cousin Andy, right?” the cashier asked, jerking Andy’s eyes up to face him.

  Andy tried to remember the smiling face in front of him; he looked about twenty and certainly familiar, but no one specific came to mind. “Yeah,” Andy said tentatively a few seconds later.

  “You don’t remember me, do you?”

  Andy blushed and smiled. “No.”

  “I’m Chuck Navasky, Colin’s brother.” Andy thought hard to place the names, but drew a blank again. “Corrine pierced a fish hook through my brother’s fingernail years ago. Remember?”

  “Oh, yeah. I remember. I’m sorry about that.”

  “No worries. He’s fine,” Chuck said, scanning Andy’s dog treats. “You look like your dad.”

  “Yeah.” Andy smiled. “I get that a lot.”

  “Your mom’s not here today?”

  Andy averted his eyes and hesitated. “She… she died two days ago. Cancer.”

  Chuck paused his scanning and licked his lips. “I’m sorry, man.”

  “That’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”