Looks like Old Man Winter isn’t ready to leave Pennsylvania.

Today we received some really messy snow that canceled events and meetings. This weekend we are supposed to get even more. I am a homebody, which I’ve mentioned before, but this winter is getting to be a bit long. It hasn’t really been the snow that has been the issue this winter, it’s been the cold and ice and just flat out messy road conditions.

We had arctic temperatures for about two months, which didn’t let the snow from late December melt. We’ve been able to see the ugly yellow-green grass for a couple of weeks now but today the snow has covered it again. It was mainly ice covering it before.

Weather forecasters originally said it would be melted by this evening because the ground has been so cold. Then around 1:30, they announced they were wrong and we were going to get four or five more inches before the day was over. Tomorrow we are supposed to have partly sunny weather and higher temps so, this snowfall should be gone by tomorrow night. Maybe. Hopefully. Who knows at this point.

But then comes Saturday. We are expected to get five to ten inches (or maybe more I heard this afternoon). I’m going to add a disclaimer, though, because the last time we were told we might get that much snow we got about two, maybe three inches. In other words, I’m not freaking out about Saturday just yet.

Here we are, waiting for spring, and Pennsylvania is being her usual, annoying self, and bringing us winter. The geese and the rest of the birds are very confused by it all. I could hear the birds chirping away, probably telling each other what we humans are telling ourselves, “It’s going to be fine. A couple more storms and winter will finally be behind us.”

The funny thing is, I saw my first robin this morning – hopping around on my neighbor’s driveway, in the snow. Poor thing. I swear, though, the robins around here are super fat. They look like they’ve eaten a couple other robins.

I don’t actually mind another week of winter in some ways. That gives me another week of curling up under a warm blanket with a cup of herbal tea (with tons of local honey, of course) and a book or a good show.

So how about you? How is the weather where you are? Hopefully, it is warm and sunny or going to be warm and sunny soon!

Chapter 28

Stan had been listening to his breathing and staring at the patterns on the ceiling of the Blue Room of the Blueberry Inn for two hours now. It was a lovely ceiling, with shapes of leaves impressed into the paint by an obviously expert mason. The inn, overall, was actually lovely. It smelled of fruit, it was quiet, the bed was soft, the owner was sweet and attentive (he’d certainly never run out of towels or cups of piping-hot, blueberry tea), the atmosphere was cozy, and the breakfast that came free with the room fee was better than any at the local diners.

Despite the comfort of this home away from home, though, his chest was aching. As a matter of fact, his arms were too.

They ached to hold Ginny close against him, feel her breathing slow and soft. He missed how he used to know everything was going to be okay as long as she was there.

He hadn’t gone to work yesterday and had answered two calls the entire day. One was from Matt, updating him on Bernie’s condition. The young man was in pretty bad shape, but doctors were optimistic and expected him to pull through and go home in a couple of weeks. He’d face some charges for his involvement in the heroin delivery, but nowhere near what he could have expected, and Matt was hopeful he’d get a lighter sentence because of the evidence he’d turned over. That sentence would hopefully be outside of prison so he could still be with his family and help support them.

The next call had come from Olivia. He had assured her he was fine, just tired and stressed. He told her he’d explain more about why he was staying at the inn later.

“She loves you, Dad.”

He didn’t want to talk about Ginny’s supposed love for him. “I need to go.”

“Clint and Tiffany will be here in a few days. I hope you’re going to come home before then. I really don’t want to have to tell Clint our parents are splitting after 32 years of marriage.”

He’d assured her that he’d be home when Clint and Tiffany came home, hung up and had flopped back on the bed, where he’d been laying ever since.

Splitting after 32 years of marriage.

Was that what was really happening?

A strange buzz shot up from the tips of fingers to his throat and he closed his eyes. His heart picked up its rhythm and his chest tightened. He dragged a hand across his forehead, now beaded with sweat.

Oh, this was just great. He was having a heart attack at the Blueberry Inn. He clenched his eyes closed tighter against the pain in his chest. At least he’d die somewhere pretty he supposed.

His breathing quickened and he sat up on the edge of the bed, tightening a fist against his chest as he opened his eyes. “You’re fine, Stan. You’re not having a heart attack. You’re just —”

He stared out the window at the empty yard outside, a cherry tree naked of its blossoms in the center of it next to a black metal bench.

 He remembered Ginny talking about Liz one day, about how she was suffering from panic attacks after giving birth.

No way.

He was not having a panic attack. Panic attacks were for women. He winced at how that thought had sounded. It wasn’t that women were weaker, they just had more hormones and hormone shifts from pregnancy and menopause and cycles or whatever they were called. He stood and walked to the window, drawing a breath in slowly and holding it for a few seconds. Isn’t that what Ginny had said she’d told Liz to do? Something about a deep breath, holding it for six seconds and letting it out for seven or eight or something.

He couldn’t remember and if he wasn’t careful, he was going to end up hyperventilating. His gaze drifted from the cherry tree to the street beyond. About half a mile down the road Ginny was dressing for the library fundraiser. She was slipping into that black dress he loved, putting on that necklace he’d bought her for birthday five years ago, making sure every hair was in place, and her lipstick was on straight.

How he longed to touch that hair, kiss that neck, breathe in deep the smell of vanilla body spray he knew she’d use before she walked out the door. He wanted to hold her hand as they walked to the car, sit next to her at the fundraiser and feel a swell of pride that his wife had created all of this to raise money for the library and provide free books and outreach programs to the community, especially the youth.

He rubbed his chest with the heel of his hand and noticed the ache was subsiding. His breathing was slowing down too. Thinking of Ginny in that dress must have been enough to distract him from the panic surging through him and if that was working then that meant he wasn’t having a heart attack. Mental images of beautiful women in low cut dresses might cause a heart attack, but not cure one.

A bird jumped from the back of the bench to the ground, searching for food. It pecked at the ground as Stan watched it, but not really seeing it. Images played across his mind. Nights of passion, clutching hands, hard kisses then tender embraces, long talks about their favorite movies, and slow dancing to Frank Sinatra in the living room.

He remembered Ginny cradling babies, swaying late at night to soothe them, kissing booboos, wiping away tears, late nights talking with their daughters about boys and one early morning advising their son on the best way to propose to his girlfriend.

He turned back to the bed and laid on it again, on his back, hands folded across his stomach. He tried to think if he could really imagine Ginny cheating on him, beyond a quick kiss from Keith that was. If he was going to be honest with himself, something he hadn’t done in a long time, he couldn’t imagine it.

Still, any woman who felt neglected could forget who they were and stray from their marriage vows, couldn’t they? He certainly had made Ginny feel neglected. He was sure of that. All work all the time had not only made Stan a dull boy but a very cranky and unlovable one.

He closed his eyes, felt a wave of exhaustion, and realized he had no idea how to even get back to who he’d been before he became so obsessed with being the best in his career. He had no desire to be that person any longer but how could he break out of the mold he’d created for himself these past few years?

“You just take a sledgehammer to it and commit to being better, Stan.” He mumbled the words as sleep overtook him. “You also commit to talking to your wife more and yourself less.”

***

She’d tried not to let what-if’s consume her mind, but Ginny couldn’t help it. The way Clint had told her that he and Tiffany were moving had lingered in her thoughts for months now. That one comment about “how this move is needed right now” is what had really stuck with her.

Now, with Clint on the other end of the phone, checking in and letting her know everything was coming together for the move, she couldn’t hold back her concern any longer. No, she didn’t need any more to worry and stress about, between the situation with Stan and Olivia coming home, but it would be one less thing she had to sit and wonder about.

“Clint, are you sure things are okay because when you called to tell me you were moving closer, you said you and Tiffany could really use this change.” She sighed, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger as she sat on the stool by her dresser. “Just something about your tone made me think there was something you weren’t telling me.”

Clint laughed. “Mom, things are really fine. You worry too much. You also have your mom goggles on. Things have been tough for me and Tiff because having four kids and one on the way is a challenge, but our marriage is good. We could use a couple nights out together, some alone time, though. Maybe you and Dad could help with that?”

Ginny let out a breath. “Of course, we could. Anytime. We would love to—”

Had he just said, “one on the way”?

“Wait, four and one on the way?”

Clint laughed. “Yeah. One more on the way. I was going to wait and tell you and Dad when we got there but you’ve sounded so worried, I just needed to let you know what’s going on and been on our minds.” He laughed again. “And don’t ask for any more grandchildren from us. This is the last one. We’re making sure of that.”

She hung up a few minutes later, promising not to pass the news on to anyone else until they arrived and could share the news themselves.

She began to wipe the make-up she’d worn to the fundraiser off, suddenly exhausted, despite the good news from Clint. It had been a very long, very emotionally draining week. Staring at herself in the mirror it unnerved her at how removing the makeup slowly revealed more of the wrinkles she developed in the last few months. She’d probably developed most of them in the last few days, along with several additional grey hairs.

At least the fundraiser was over. Now she needed to shift gears to finishing plans for Clint and Tiffany’s welcome home party. They’d be here in only a couple of days. She couldn’t wait to hug her grandchildren close, forget about her crumbling marriage for even a few hours as she watched them giggle and play with each other. She hoped Clint and Tiffany wouldn’t mind if she filled them up with chocolate chip cookies and cake for the first couple of days, especially because she knew how much they loved her chocolate chip cookies and lemon sponge cake.

Filling their kids up with sweets, might distract them from the fact she and Stan were currently living in separate locations. The heartbreak struck at her again at that thought and she took a deep breath to keep from crying. She’d cry after she got undressed, slipped into her nightgown and cuddled under the covers with a Jan Karon book and a carton of chocolate ice cream.

The diet could wait until she pulled herself together a little more.

She reached behind her to neck to unzip her dress and looked at herself in the mirror. There was no way she could reach it that way. She tried behind her back and slid her hands up, but that wasn’t working either. She’d had Olivia zip it up for her before she left, a job that used to be Stan’s. Olivia was out with some friends at the movies, though, and probably wouldn’t be home until late. Ginny had a feeling Brent might be attending as well and wondered if this would mean a reunion between the two. They’d made a nice couple in high school, before Olivia had decided Spencer and all that was associated with it was too good for her.

Ginny winced as a pain shot through her wrist. There had to be a way to get this dress off without help. What did single women living alone do to get out of similar dresses for goodness sake?

“Need help?”

She screamed at the voice, clutching her hand to her throat.

Stan’s reflection in the mirror caused her to scream again and she pivoted to face him. “Stan! Good grief! I thought I was alone.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Sorry about that.” He took a couple of steps toward her as she tried to catch her breath and the smile faded. “And for all the times you really were alone.”

The intensity in his gaze left her unable to look away. He was a foot away from her now, studying her as if trying to read her reaction to his words. She had no idea what message her expression was sending because she wasn’t even sure what expression she was making. Her mouth was partly open, her face still warm from the shock of him walking in when she thought she’d been alone, her eyes wide and her eyebrows raised. She imagined she might look something like Edvard Munch’s The Scream painting at the moment.

He lifted his hand, held it in mid-air for a few seconds then pushed several strands of her hair behind her ear, cupping her cheek instead of lowering his hand. “How I could have ever chosen my job over you, I’ll never understand.” He stepped even closer, looked down at her, smoothing the palm of his thumb across her jawline. “Can you ever forgive me?”

This time she wanted the kiss that followed. She wanted the arm that slid around her back, pulling her close. She wanted the fingers that slipped behind her head, up into her hair, clutching as his mouth softly touched her upper lip. She wanted this kiss more than she’d wanted almost anything, other than the first kiss he’d ever given her or to hold each of her children while carrying them inside her for nine months.

He tilted his head, caught her mouth more firmly with his and deepened the kiss, drawing her mind completely from her body until all that filled her thoughts were the feel of his skin against hers as he slowly unzipped the dress and slid his hands inside, sliding them down her back.

When he pulled his mouth from hers, he found her neck, trailing kisses along it and then back to her mouth again.

She moaned softly as the kiss continued and the dress slipped off her shoulders and to the floor. Both of his hands had moved into her hair now and her fingers clutched at the front of his jacket as he stepped back, pulling her with him toward the bed.

This wasn’t how she had expected her night to end. Not in the least. But as she felt the bed underneath her, her husband’s body next to her warm and solid as she had wanted it to be for so long, she decided this was a much better ending that huddling under the covers alone with a pint of chocolate ice cream.

Chapter 29

“Olivia, no. I don’t want to wake, Mom. It sounds like she’s had a crazy week with the fundraiser and, well, everything else.”

Ginny listened but didn’t open her eyes. Was that Maddie’s voice? Her oldest daughter was home, and no one had told her she was coming? Stan shifted slightly next to her, but he was either asleep or lying in wait like her to see what their children said about them. She kept her arms around his middle, pressed her cheek against his bare back and listened to the commotion in the hallway outside their bedroom door.

Olivia sighed. “I shouldn’t have even told you about everything else, but I didn’t know how to explain about Dad not being here.”

Oh great. How much did she share?

“I just wonder what made them have that fight.” Maddie definitely sounded concerned and as the oldest daughter Ginny was sure she wanted to fix it. It didn’t sound like she knew the whole story, though, and Ginny was glad for that. She didn’t really need the whole family knowing about the kiss with Keith. She was embarrassed and ashamed enough.

“I’m sure it was just — I don’t know, old people stuff.”

Ginny sighed softly. Typical Olivia comment.

“Liv, that’s not nice.” Ginny’s eyes flew open. Clint? What was he doing here already? He and Tiffany weren’t supposed to be here for two more days, and he hadn’t told her when they talked last night that he was already in town. “They’re not just old people. They’re our parents.”

The clanking of dishes and a bump against the door preceded Olivia’s next words. “Well, whatever. Let’s take Mom some breakfast. She’ll be so excited that you are both here already.”

Ginny clenched her eyes closed. It was too late to dart from the bed and throw on some clothes, too late to have Stan do the same. Luckily, they were both covered with the comforter and hopefully enough to keep their children from being too shocked.

“Oh!” Olivia’s whispered declaration made Ginny bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. “Oh. Ew. Ew. And another ew.”

Maddie’s giggles were muffled. “I guess they made up.”

“Do you think they’re —” Olivia made a gagging noise that made Ginny want to laugh even more. “I mean do you think that they —”

Ginny couldn’t see it, but she could practically hear Clint roll his eyes. “They’re old, not dead, Liv. Yeah, they probably are, and they probably did.”

Now Maddie, also whispering, though Ginny wondered if they knew how loud they were whispering. “Liv, I know it’s your parents and you don’t like to think about it —”

“Our parents. Our parents, Mad and they are like 60. Ew.”

“They’re like 56, not 60,” Clint said in a scolding older brother tone. “That’s not that old. I mean, we’ll be that old someday.”

The voices faded and the door clicked closed. “Yeah, some of us faster than others.” Olivia’s voice teased from the hallway. “I was going to go down and eat breakfast but I think I’ve lost my appetite now.”

“Well,” Maddie said, her voice trembling with laughter. “At least we know things are good between them.”

“Oh, Mad! Stop!” Olivia’s tone of disgust did Ginny in and a giggle tumbled out of her.

Stan’s shoulders shook and she knew he’d been listening to. He rolled over to his side, smiling and cupped his hand against her cheek like he had the night before.

“Good morning, old lady.”

“Good morning, old man.”

“This old man could use a shower and some breakfast but he’d also like to lay here a little longer with you, if that’s okay.”

Ginny tipped her head slightly as he kissed her forehead. “It is, old man. It definitely is.”

***

“Let me get my hands on that baby!” The squeal that followed Tiffany’s affectionate demand made her sound more like a high school student than a grown woman with four children. Liz obliged and handed her older sister Bella. Tiffany kissed Bella’s cheek pulled her back and held her in front of her for a few seconds before cradling against her.

“Oh, you are so sweet! Even sweeter than I imagine! I’m so happy I can finally hold you!”

Tiffany swayed a little in place, all her attention on Bella as Liz looked on with both amusement and tenderness. She’d imagined she might have children one day and her sister would rejoice with her. She actually hadn’t expected it to be so soon, though, and definitely had not planned for it to be something that happened without a husband, so the moment was tinged with a bittersweetness she’d rather not have tasted.

Tiffany looked up. “So, how is motherhood treating you?”

Liz chewed on her lower lip for a moment. “Okay. I just wish I was as good at it as you are.”

Tiffany snorted a laugh. “As good at it as me? Did you see my children today? One of them has two different shoes on. Another one is over behind that chair making a mess in his diaper and the oldest has eaten his weight in brownies today.” She sat down on the couch and crossed one leg over the other, shifting Bella to a sitting position against her. “I’ve been watching you the last couple of days, Liz. You’re good at this mother thing. Don’t worry about that. There isn’t some magical perfect way to be a mom. There’s no formula. You just do the best you can, and you are doing the best you can and that best is pretty great right now. You think I know everything about parenting? Even with four kids? Well, technically five.” She glanced at her belly.

Liz smirked. “Or six if you count, Clint, right?”

Tiffany laughed and held a finger to her lips. “Shh. That was just between you and me.” She tipped her head toward the cushion next to her. “Sit down and tell me about the college classes you started. How are they going?”

Liz sat and leaned back against the arm of the couch, twisting her body toward Tiffany. “They’re going. I’m still not sure what degree I’ll end up with, but right now I’m working toward a degree in social work and until then I’ve apparently become a children’s librarian.” She shrugged a shoulder, smiling. “It’s not such a bad job, but of course, I haven’t had my first story time yet, so I’ll get back to you on that.”

Shouts from outside the window drew her attention from her sister and daughter and she stood to look out it. In her parents’ side yard, Matt was standing with his legs apart and an arm cocked back with a football in his hand, ready to throw it down the field to Jason. Clint and a group of Clint’s friends swarmed around him, raising their arms, ready to tackle Matt or block the throw.

She smiled, letting her eyes linger on Matt’s attentive expression as his gaze flicked across the field while he decided where to throw the ball. The charges against him had been dropped after Gabe’s arrest. Once he’d completed his two-month suspension, Reggie and the council planned to reinstate him based on his previous good record. Liz was disappointed that he had lost his chance to become a state police trooper, but she seemed to be the only one. Matt told her he was content where he was, glad to be able to remain in Spencer with her and Bella.

“So, it’s official?” Liz looked over her shoulder at Tiffany’s question and saw her sister was standing behind her now, looking out the window as well.

“What’s official?”

Tiffany snorted a laugh. “You know what. That you’re together with little Matty.”

Liz raised an eyebrow but couldn’t help smiling. “Little Matty?

Tiffany laughed again. “Yeah, that’s what his sister and I always called him in school. Sooo, is it official?”

Liz looked back out the window, at Matt who’d tucked the ball under his arm and was now attempting to run down the field still dotted with spots of snow from the snowfall the night before.

“Yeah.” A smile pulled at her mouth as she pushed the curtain further back. “It’s official.”

Ginny set a tray of glasses full of lemonade on the coffee table. “And it’s about time too.”

Liz pursed her lips and shot Ginny a mock scowl, but wasn’t able to hold it long before a smile pulled her frown upward. “Shush, you.”

Stan stepped behind Ginny as she straightened and slid an arm around her waist.

“She’s just happy for you, Liz.” He pulled Ginny back against him and kissed her cheek. “She’s hoping that you and Matt will have as happy of a marriage as she and I have for all these years.”

Liz held up her hands. “Slow down, matchmakers. No one said anything about marriage.”

Ginny winked. “Not yet, no, but I’m sure if I use my teacher voice with little Matty he’ll get right on that.”

Liz laughed an easy laugh, a laugh that wasn’t forced or tight like it had once been. Ginny and Stan meant well. A future with Matt was what she wanted, but for now, she simply wanted to enjoy the beauty coming forth from the ashes of her past.

I was probably supposed to post this on the last day of February, instead of the first day of March, but whatever. I’m not organized. You all know that.

So, anyhow, February was about as dull as January was for us. We were still stuck inside thanks to horrible winter weather, so we didn’t do anything exciting.

We didn’t have as much snow this winter or during February, but it seemed like we did. We actually had snow at the end of December and then two months of cold and a little bit of sleet and ice, which didn’t let much of the snow from December melt. A couple of weeks ago we received  rain which then washed all the snow into the rivers, which were full of ice already, and threatened flooding, which thankfully never came

The weather did provide some lovely photos of ice-encased on trees, which I shared on the blog and will share again here:

While we were inside, I finished writing the third novel in the Spencer Valley Chronicles series (Beauty From Ashes) and we did a lot of schoolwork. Even though we did “a lot of schoolwork” I still don’t feel like I’m teaching my children enough. It’s the curse of homeschooling parents – the whole idea that we are not doing enough. Despite not feeling like I am doing enough, Little Miss is breezing through all her reading lessons and pretty bored with her math so we’ve had to skip ahead some lessons.

She’s not very interested in history yet so I am not shoving too much at her. She’s 7, so it’s not like she’s really going to remember all of this anyhow. She’ll retain more of that information better when she’s older. That won’t stop me from teaching her history, but it does stop me from stressing that she can’t remember the first president some days even though we’ve talked about it several times. She actually does remember him most of the time but sometimes she looks at me with that deer-in-the-headlight expression and I want to throw myself to the ground and declare myself a failure.

I usually get over that feeling pretty fast. This year I have been trying to work on not stressing over homeschool work as much and realizing that a few missed days here and there isn’t the end of the world, especially if those days are for legit reasons or for reasons that will somehow enrich my children’s lives. February did not offer many opportunities for enrichment educationally-wise since it was so cold and miserable, however.

I am hopeful that March will offer us a few more educational experiences outside the home. A local children’s camp is offering science classes in March, April, and May, similar to what they offered in autumn, so that will be one area where we will be able to get out and meet other homeschool students. We did suspect that might be where we caught Covid in November but honestly, we can’t be sure and we’re not going to live in fear anymore. We’ve had Covid, I know what it can do and what to watch for so I need to move forward with my life as best as I can.

As for reading in February, I didn’t read a ton of books like some readers do, but I did finish four, which is an accomplishment for me.

I finished The Cat Who Saw Stars by Lillian Jackson Braun (not one of my favorites of hers), The Dark Horse by Craig Johnson, His Road to Redemption by Lisa Jordan, and Miss Julia Renews Her Vows by Ann B. Ross. I also read Little House on the Prairie with Little Miss but I’ve read that before, so I don’t really count it.

In March, I hope to read, or finish, or well, at least start, the following books:

Moriarty by Anthony Horowitz

Every Star in the Sky by Sara Davison

Anything But Simple, My Life As A Mennonite by Lucinda J. Miller

Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson

And

Miss Julia Rocks the Cradle by Ann B. Ross

I did not take a lot of photos in the month of February, for the above-mentioned reasons (mainly the cold!), but I thought I would share some that I, and my husband, took during the month.

I hope you all had a good February and have an even better March.

The curriculum I picked up for the kids this year for social studies included eight different books in Little Miss’s set and 12 in The Boy’s.  

There is no way we will be able to get through all of them in one school year. They are supposed to be read with certain units but reading them would require reading them all back-to-back and that’s a lot of reading for me (since I’d be reading them for Little Miss) and for a ninth grader, since he is also reading a lot in his textbooks.

Instead, I’ve been picking and choosing the books and putting the others aside for future school years.

So far this year, Little Miss and I have read Freedom Crossing, Benjamin West and His Cat Grimalkin, Tolliver’s Secret, and Emily’s Imagination. We had already read Farmer Boy, which is what we are supposed to be reading for this current unit, so we are reading it again. We read Emily’s Imagination, but I hadn’t even noticed it was on the list when I chose it to read. We haven’t even reached the unit where we are supposed to read it.

Other books in her set included:

Mountain Born by Elizabeth Yates, The Year of Miss Agnes by Kirkpatrick Hill, Katy by Mary Evelyn Notgrass.

I’m hoping to read a couple more before the end of the school year and so far, I think The Year of Miss Agnes looks interesting so we will probably get to that one, if not the other two. She and I already read quite a few books during the year, and we’re also probably not going to finish this curriculum for this school year because we don’t do history every day. This history is very detailed and I add supplemental material, such as videos, to the lessons to make them a little more expansive.

For The Boy, we have already read Blood Brothers by Elias Chacour and A Long Walk to Water, as well as part of Know Why You Believe by Paul Little. We also read some other literature in our American Literature book. Right now, we are reading Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson.

Before the end of the school year, I am hoping to have us read at least two more books if not three.

The books that interest me the most include Lost in the Barrens by Farley Mowat, Revolution is Not a Dinner Party by Ying Chang Compestine, and Tales from Silver Lands by Charles Finger.

Here are the descriptions for those three:

Lost in the Barrens: Awasin and Jamie, brothers in courage, meet a challenge many mountain men could not endure.  When their canoe is destroyed by the fury of the rapids, they must face the wilderness with no food and no hope of rescue.  To survive, they build an igloo, battle a towering grizzly bear, track several wolves, slaughter caribou for food and clothing.  Two lost huskies they tame bring companionship–and maybe a way home from their dangerous adventure.

Revolution is Not a Dinner Party: The summer of 1972, before I turned nine, danger began knocking on doors all over China.

Nine-year-old Ling has a very happy life. Her parents are both dedicated surgeons at the best hospital in Wuhan, and her father teaches her English as they listen to Voice of America every evening on the radio. But when one of Mao’s political officers moves into a room in their apartment, Ling begins to witness the gradual disintegration of her world. In an atmosphere of increasing mistrust and hatred, Ling fears for the safety of her neighbors, and soon, for herself and her family. For the next four years, Ling will suffer more horrors than many people face in a lifetime. Will she be able to grow and blossom under the oppressive rule of Chairman Mao? Or will fighting to survive destroy her spirit—and end her life?

Tales from Silver Lands: Tales from Silver Lands is a book by Charles Finger that won the Newbery Medal in 1925. The book is a collection of nineteen folktales of the native populations of Central and South America. These interesting folk stories include tales about giants, witches, and animals.

What is fun about reading these books to or with the kids is that I get to read them as well. There are books in these lists that I never would have read because I never would have heard about some of them otherwise.

Last year I read Silas Marner, which I really enjoyed, but never would have read on my own. Choosing to homeschool is a joint decision, so the children can decide to switch to public school in the future if they want to, but I’m hoping they’ll choose to continue if only so I have no excuse not to read some classics. *wink*

This is an almost first draft of a story with typos and errors and who knows what going on. *wink*
If you want to catch up with the rest of this story you can click HERE.

If you want to wait until it is all finished and purchase a copy of the book on April 26, you can do that as well.

Chapter 22

Cutting the mushroom as thin as he could, Stan narrowed one eye and noticed, yet again, how hard it had become to focus on smaller objects. He should have brought his bifocals from his upstairs office, but he’d been so hungry he’d left them in favor of starting lunch.

He tossed the mushrooms into the pan of sizzling hamburger and sauce and when he looked up, he saw his daughter trying to move back up the stairs slowly. He was sure she was hoping he hadn’t seen her.

He leaned on the counter, folding his hands over the edge. “Olivia Grace, I’ve already seen you. You can keep coming.”

She sighed heavily, a lot of the teenager Olivia still in her, and walked slowly down the stairs, clearly attempting to delay the inevitable.

“Have you had lunch today?”

She shook her head as she slunked into a chair at the kitchen table.

“Well, I’m making my famous mushroom stroganoff if you’d like some.”

Olivia shrugged a shoulder. “Yeah, I guess. Where’s Mom?”

Stan shrugged a shoulder as well. “The library. Where she usually is this time of day.” He turned back to the stove and stirred the mixture. “Don’t try to deflect me. You know we need to talk about why you’re home.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Care to enlighten me about your visit?”

Olivia stretched her arms over her head and leaned back slightly. “I just missed you and Mom.”

Stan laughed and shook his head. “Good try, Liv. Spill it. What’s the real reason?”

“I just needed a break from California and college.”

“A break?” He sat the spoon on the spoon holder next to the stove and turned, folding his arms across his chest. “Did your professors approve of this little break of yours? I assume you’re keeping track of your classes online somehow?”

She picked at the tassels on the knitted placemat in front of her. “Not exactly.”

“Not exactly? Liv, if you are going to drop out of college, I swear I —”

“It’s not if I drop out, Dad. I already did. It’s done.”

“Done? Done?” Warmth spread up from Stan’s chest to his face and he was sure he was beat red and possibly about to have a stroke from high blood pressure. “You are not done until I say you’re done, or you have a degree in your hand, young lady.

Olivia leaned forward, a pleading tone to her voice. “Dad, don’t be upset. I was wasting your money out there. I don’t even want to be a social worker anymore, I —”

Stan ignored her efforts to beg for his forgiveness. “I paid all that money for three years and now you are just, what? Walking away from your education? Wasting my money is what you are doing now. If you drop out you’ve already wasted it. All that money down the tubes because now you aren’t even going to use your degree.

Olivia stood and walked to the refrigerator, pulling out a carton of orange juice. She picked up a container of avocado and made a face, then put it back on the shelf. “Again, it’s not if I drop out. Also, it wasn’t totally a waste. I took a lot of good classes with a lot of great information that I can use in the future.”

Stan leaned back against the counter, his arms still folded across his chest, resisting the urge to slam his hand on the counter. “In the future? What future? If you don’t have a degree then you don’t have —”

“Everyone who is successful in life doesn’t have a degree, okay?”

Stan couldn’t believe his ears. “Well, that’s great. So, you think you’re just going to waltz through life without a degree and do what?”

“I don’t know yet, Dad. I just need a break, okay? And Mark Zuckerburg never got a degree. Steve Jobs didn’t either.”

Stan raised an eyebrow. “I know who Steve Jobs is but who is this Zuckerburt guy? Someone you went to high school with? What did he ever do that was so great?”

Olivia paused with the glass halfway to her mouth. “Really, Dad? Mark Zuckerburg is —” She waved her hand and sat back down at the table. “Never mind. All I’m saying is that I don’t have to have a degree to have a successful or happy life.”

She picked up a book on the table and raised an eyebrow. “Whose book is this? How to Find Happiness in Your Older Years?”

Stan turned back to the food on the stove. “I don’t know. Don’t change the subject. This is a very serious decision.”

“Do you think Mom has been acting weird?”

Stan’s jaw tightened. “No, I don’t. Stop trying to change the subject.”

Olivia flipped through the pages of the book. “She seems sad, right? Have you noticed that?”

“There are no breaks in life kid. There’s hard work and —”

“Right, I know.” Olivia sipped the juice, closing the book. “But what about Mom? Have you even noticed how down she seems lately?”

Stan slapped the spoon on the counter next to the stove. “There is nothing wrong with your mom.”

Olivia leaned an elbow on the table and propped her chin on her hand. “Are things okay between you two?”

Stan threw his arms out to his side, facing his daughter. “Everything is fine with me and your mom. Will you, please, stop changing the subject?”

Olivia pursed her lips and tapped the tip of her index finger against her chin. “But is it, really? Okay between you two? I mean, do you have any idea what’s she been up to lately?”

Stan huffed a breath out impatiently. “What does that mean?” Was his daughter trying to show she’d learned at least something in those psychology classes she’d taken as part of her social work degree. If so, he didn’t like it. Not one little bit. “She’s been working, planning the library fundraiser, hanging out with Liz. Normal stuff.”

Olivia ran the tip of her finger along the edge of the class. “I don’t know, Dad, maybe Mom is acting weird because you’re never home.”

Stan stuffed his hands into his pockets, certain if he didn’t  place them there, he’d pound a fist into the kitchen wall. “She is not acting weird, and I am home sometimes.”

“But not a lot.”

“Because I’m working, paying for you to go to college or I was and apparently I was working for nothing since you’ve thrown away your chance to finish your degree.”

Olivia seemed non-plussed by Stan’s growing anger. She chewed on her lower lip, looking absent-mindedly through the kitchen doorway to the living room. “Every time I call home she’s alone. She says you’re at work or a meeting or conference somewhere.” She turned to look at her dad again. “Do you guys even hang out anymore? When is the last time you two went out? Alone. Just the two of you?”

Stan tossed his arms out to his side. “I don’t know, Olivia. Why are you asking all these questions? Things are fine with your mother. They’re fine with me and your mother.” He pointed a finger at her. “But things are not fine between you and me, so you’d better figure out what you are going to do about all this. You are not dropping out of college, do you understand me?”

Olivia sighed and stretched her leg out across the chair next to her. “It’s too late, Dad. I already told you that. I’m not going back to college. I don’t know what I’m going to do yet, but I’ll figure it out.” She slid her leg down and stood, taking the glass of juice with her. “You know, you need to relax more. You’re going to have a stroke or something.” She smiled as she turned toward the stairs. “You know what’s relaxing? A nice dinner. With your wife.” She pointed toward the stove. “Also, your lunch is burning.”

Stan clenched his jaw and swore he tasted blood. He turned back to the stove and slid the pan off the burner. What in the world did that girl think she was doing asking him all those questions about him and her mother?

Did he think Ginny had been acting weird?

When was the last time they’d gone out to dinner together?

What kind of questions were those anyhow?

He sniffed the concoction in the pan. Burned. He made a face and tossed his hands up and slapped them down against the counter.

Yes, he thought Ginny had been acting weird but he hadn’t had time to really think about it. He had properties to sell, contracts to sign, money to earn to keep a roof over this family’s head and apparently to throw away when his daughter decided on a whim to abandon her responsibilities and walk away from earning a degree.

He had to admit he couldn’t remember the last time he and Ginny had gone out to dinner together. She’d had fundraising meetings and he’d had real estate meetings. Then there was all the times she was out helping Liz, watching her baby, cheering her up by attending art classes with her.

They’d just both been busy lately.

He scraped some of the stroganoff onto a plate.

He wondered how dinner had gone the other night with Keith. She’d never said.

Of course, he’d never asked.

He spooned some of the stroganoff up and took a bite, spitting it out a second later. Burned was an understatement. The beef and mushrooms had been napalmed.

It didn’t matter anyhow. He’d lost his appetite after his discussion with Olivia.

Not only had she avoided all his questions about what she was going to do with her future, but she’d also left his mind spinning with doubts. His marriage was fine, wasn’t it?

If it was, then why did he have a funny feeling it wasn’t?

***

“Let me get this straight.” Incredulous. That’s how Matt described the tone of the trooper’s voice on the other end of the phone. “You’re calling me to try to pin a drug ring on the guy you kicked the crap out of last week and who, incidentally, pressed charges against you and caused you your spot at the state police academy?” Trooper Dan Laudermilch snorted a laugh into the receiver. “Come on, McGee, really? This is clearly an attempt by you or someone else to set this guy up.”

Matt bristled at the suggestion he was a crooked cop, but swallowed a retort. “Dan, you’ve known me for how long? Do you really think I’d do something like that?”

A loud slurp made Matt pull the phone back from his ear. After the slurp, there was a clink of a mug against a desk. “No, man, I don’t, but I also didn’t think you’d slam some guy off the sidewalk. You’re not exactly ole reliable right now.”

Matt pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger as he closed his eyes and let out a sigh. “Yeah, I know. Maybe I shouldn’t have called, but it was a tip, and I didn’t want to ignore it.”

“A tip from who?” Dan’s voice was muffled, talking around a mouthful of food. Matt smirked. Probably a donut. How stereotypical.

“A guy I know.”

“Someone you arrested?”

“Yes, but —”

“How do you know this guy isn’t just trying to send you on a wild goose chase? Chase you off his own scent?”

Matt rubbed a hand through his hair. “I don’t.”

“That’s what I thought. Listen, you’re a good guy, Matt. A good cop. I want to believe you, but I worry your instincts are off with all that’s gone down the last couple weeks.” Another slurp. “Between you and me, I’m glad you decked Martin. He deserved it. I’m tired of pulling him over for speeding and Daddy sending lawyers to get him off.” A crinkling sound on the other end must have been Dan wiping donut dust from around his mouth. “Because you’re a friend, I’ll look into this, but I’m not making any promises. We’re zeroing in on the guy we think was running this thing. He’s a guy you picked up a few years back.” Papers rustled on the other end of the phone. “Yeah. Here it is. A Bernie Denton.”

Matt shook his head no, even though Dan couldn’t see him. “No. It isn’t Bernie. He was never into drugs. Not hard ones anyhow. He’s a good guy, getting himself back on his feet.”

“He’s your informant isn’t he?” Dan groaned before Matt could answer. “Come on, McGee! Really? Your informant is the guy we’re investigating. Doesn’t that seem suspicious to you?”

It did seem a little suspicious, yes, but something about the way Bernie had told him, opened up to him, made him believe it was true, as much as he didn’t want it to be. “Yeah. It does so maybe I’m wrong, okay? But I still wanted to offer the information. If there’s nothing to it, there’s nothing to it. To be honest, I don’t want there to be anything to it. It would be a lot easier for me if there wasn’t.”

Dan chuckled. “So it’s true then? You’re dating Martin’s former woman, huh?”

Matt pressed the heal of his hand into his forehead as he leaned on it. She wasn’t someone’s former woman. Her name was Liz and he loved her. The way she was being defined by Dan as if she was a possession grated on his nerves but he was already bating zero with area law enforcement. No need to burn another bridge.

“Just keep me updated if you can, Dan. I appreciate it.”

“I shouldn’t be updating you about anything, but, again, you’re a good cop, so I’ll oblige you.” Teasing edged Dan’s voice. “Just this once, though.”

Matt slid his finger over the end button and closed his eyes, pain thrumming in his temples and along the base of his skull. Now that that was over he needed to call his lawyer, who’d he just hired two days ago, and find out of Gabe had filed the lawsuit against him he’d threatened to, in addition to the assault charges he’d already filed.

The only bright spot in these last two weeks was finally telling Liz how he felt, coupled with the kisses they’d exchanged the night before. He could have kissed her all night, but that would have led them into dangerous territory. Instead, he’d stayed with her for much of the night, patting the back of a fussy Bella and watching sitcoms. This relationship wasn’t going to be only between him and Liz and for any other guy that would have been a problem. Sharing Liz with Bella wasn’t a problem for him, though. The two of them were a package deal and it was a package he was happy to be the caretaker of.

The idea of protecting them wasn’t something he dreaded. He looked at the prospect with anticipation, looking forward to even more days and nights with them. They both had already filled every inch of his heart and mind. He was ready for them to fill every moment of his life as well.