Chapter 12

I slept like a log on that too-short, decades-old mattress. It had to be a testament to how emotionally drained I was from the prior night’s revelations since that mattress was really uncomfortable. When my internal clock awakened me at six, I got up, expecting to find the family gathered in the kitchen, working on breakfast and making plans for the day.

Dad was the only one there; he shushed me as I looked around for everyone else. “Pop told me last night that they don’t really get up before seven, or at least your grandmother doesn’t. He’ll join us in a bit, but we’re essentially on our own for breakfast.”

I nodded understanding, heading to the fridge to see what I could scare up. Jackpot! If you haven’t figured out by now, I’m a bacon fiend. Well, it must run in the family since grandma had butcher-paper-wrapped bacon in the fresh meats drawer. I hefted it in my hand before tossing the package on the counter. There appeared to be enough for me and Dad, maybe even Grandpa.

Grandma was also pretty well stocked for eggs in the fridge and there was a loaf of bread under cover on the counter. I gestured at the bread, pointed to Dad and then the toaster. He was brown and butter while I was fry and scramble – our jobs that is. So far, I hadn’t had to open any drawers or cupboards, keeping the noise to a minimum. I figured that the longer Grandma could sleep, the less likely it would be that I would run afoul of a cardinal rule: never mess up someone else’s kitchen without permission. We could make, eat, and clean up our breakfast without anyone being the wiser.

There was a large cast-iron skillet hanging over her kitchen island that would be perfect for frying up the bacon. It came down quietly. There was a clean bowl left out on the counter from where we had been interrupted doing the dishes, that would be just right for a dozen eggs scrambled. The whisk was in a container with wooden spoons and tongs, all awaiting quiet use.

We were dead meat, however, as soon as the smell of bacon frying wafted past the kitchen boundary. The aroma let Grandma know, even in her sleep, that there were intruders in her domain, messing with the natural order of things. Grandpa arrived about thirty seconds before she did.

“You boys are in trouble. I’ll hold her off long enough for you to run.” He turned to do just that and bumped into Grandma as she came through the door. “Oh crud!”

“Good defense, Pop.” Dad kept buttering the toast while I turned the bacon.

Grandma was irate, “What do you two think you are doing?”

I was finishing up the last of the meat in the frying pan, “Now that you’re awake, Grandma, we might not have enough bacon for all of us. Do you have any more?”

She went into full hostess mode, anger set aside, “Did you check the fridge door dear?” She opened the cooler, pulling out another package half the size of the one I had found. “Here, use this.”

It was then that she realized she had been neatly deflected from her original query. “I’m not happy with you, Tim, or you, James. You are guests in this house and shouldn’t be running around taking care of us.”

I turned the heat down on the stove, maneuvering to take Grandma into my grease spattered arms. She struggled halfheartedly. “But, Grandma, after last night, aren’t we family?”

I got a grudging, “Yes.”

“And doesn’t family take care of each other?”

Another, “Yes.”

“So then it’s alright for me and Dad to take care of you.” I made it a statement and not a question. “Now, do you have any more eggs?” I released her so I could give my attention to the new package of bacon.

She turned automatically to the fridge door, a sly smile on her face. I didn’t move fast enough and so was rewarded by a light smack on my rear from the wooden spoon that had just been in its container a moment ago.

“I’m on to you, you silver-tongued devil. Don’t think you can sweet-talk me the whole time you’re here.”

I was paying attention, and while her words said one thing, her body language told me that she’d be happy to be sweet-talked by me.

“Good with the ladies, Pops. Good with the ladies.”

We all sat down to a hearty breakfast.

Grandpa took Dad out to his shop so he could plug in his Surface Pro and download some of his design software. If there was any chance of getting plans to Mr. Emerson by September, Dad needed to start working. I was left to clean up the kitchen with Grandma.

She was puttering around, looking for something on the counter.

“What are you looking for, Grandma?”

“There was a loaf of bread here last night. Do you know what happened to it?”

I thought she was teasing me. “We had toast at breakfast.”

“Oh. Well, I’ll just make some buns for lunch.” She started taking out flour, yeast and milk. “Tim, what happened to the rest of the eggs?”

“We ate them all, Grandma. I scrambled up the full dozen.”

She started going through the rest of the fridge, “And the bacon?”

“Both packs.”

There was a pad on the door, she tore off a piece of paper and began making notes. “Well, Tim, it looks like you and I are going to go shopping.” She pulled the receiver off an old style rotary phone on the wall and dialed a single number. “Lionel, the boys ate us out of house and home this morning. I’m taking Tim shopping with me. Remember you need to be at the Deever place by nine. Jose will be waiting on you.”

She listened a bit and then hung up the phone which I guess served double duty as a line to the shop. “Lionel said that your dad told you to take the Tahoe. Come on, we need to get back in time for me to fix lunch.”

Grandma shopped at the Kroger, so that’s where she directed me. I got a cart, pushing it along behind her as she walked through the aisles. The cart began to fill up much more slowly than it did after I had taken over the shopping at home. After a period of what seemed to me to be more browsing and less shopping I couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Grandma, today is Thursday, and we’re going to be here at least through Sunday. Are you planning to shop every day while we’re here?” I caught her by surprise.

“No, Tim, just today.” She looked down at the basket, trying to figure out what I meant with my question. I saw the memory of breakfast superimpose itself onto the meager pickings we had currently selected. “Oh, let’s go back to the first aisle. I think we need some more food.”

We filled the cart, finally approaching the weight and number of items I was used to getting for a week. I walked it up to the front, looking for the shortest line. Grandma was looking for something different.

“Over here, Tim.”

I navigated through the rest of the shoppers, bringing our cart to a halt in the line Grandma had picked out. I was tall enough to see over most heads, so as I stood there, I looked around to see if there was a shorter line. “Look, Grandma, that line doesn’t have anyone in it. Let’s get in that one.”

I received a lazy smile in return, “No, we’re fine here.”

My foot was tapping pretty strongly when we finally made it to the checkout.

“Stop it, Tim. You’re being rude.”

Grandma turned back to the checkout girl, “Good morning, Paige, why aren’t you in school today?”

“Hi, Mrs. McKenzie. We have a teacher work day today and tomorrow. What’s with all the food? Are you stocking up for the winter?”

I had heard that voice before on a hillside in Seattle. It was still the sexiest voice ever, but I couldn’t believe that Ms. Goddard would be working checkout at a Kroger. Whoever it was kept talking to Grandma, her face hidden from me by the various displays and magazines they stock in the checkout line.

“No, we just have some visitors through the weekend: my grandson and his father.”

“I didn’t know you had a grandson, or even any children.”

Grandma looked back at me, shock evident on her face. “But your mother ... I mean ... she never ... not even after your father passed away?”

The groceries stopped processing across the scanner. “Never what, Mrs. McKenzie? Is there something I should know?”

Grandma shook her head, “No, nothing important. On the other hand, I’d like you to meet my grandson, Tim McKenzie.” She pulled me up to the card reader where I got my first look at Paige.

There was no doubt left in my mind, she was related somehow to Lily Goddard. The same features, hair, voice. They were either sisters or mother and daughter.

Paige had Lily’s height plus some. She was a good five feet ten inches in those flats she was wearing, with long limbs and an athletic build. I could tell, even though the uniform she was wearing tried hard to disguise it, that she had some curves. If I had to guess, I’d say she was my age. She wore the dirty blonde hair that she and Lily shared cut short, styled to keep out of her eyes while still letting everyone know she was a girl. Those violet eyes were something else the two of them had in common.

Grandma was nudging my right arm in an attempt to get me to either offer it to the girl behind the register, or say something. I waited too long.

“Hi, I’m Paige...”

“Goddard,” I finished for her, my voice and expression flat. “Tim McKenzie.”

I turned toward my grandmother. “Grandma, I apologize for my behavior, but I think it’s best if I wait for you outside.”

“It was nice to meet you, Miss Goddard.” My tone gave lie to that statement.

Grandma wasn’t more than three minutes before she came through the exit of that Kroger and headed for me with purpose in her eyes. I hurried to meet her, taking over responsibility for getting the cart to the Tahoe. No, it wasn’t just purpose, she was angry.

“Tim McKenzie, we may not be that familiar with each other yet, but you just embarrassed me and that young lady in there. She did nothing to you that deserved that treatment.”

I loaded the groceries, trying not to look at her face. “You’re right Grandma. I apologize again, it wasn’t very nice.”

She helped me with the last bags, waiting until I had closed the hatch.

“Apology accepted. Now go inside and apologize to Paige.”

“No.” There was no budging me, even though she tried.

“Come on, Grandma, get in the Tahoe and I’ll take us back.”

After a futile period of railing at me, she climbed in, clearly still upset. “What do you have against that sweet girl?”

“I don’t know ... nothing ... something. I don’t know.”

“Well you had better figure it out before I talk to your father.”

Grandma left me to take the groceries inside when we returned to the house. She went storming off to the shed where I presumed Dad was still working. Sometime later they both came walking toward the kitchen, as I was finishing unbagging everything.

“Tim, what’s this that Mom says about you behaving poorly at the supermarket?”

I turned away from the spoils of our morning plunder to answer him. “It’s true, Dad. I’m not proud of my behavior.”

“Oh.” It looked like I had derailed whatever he had intended to say. “Well, do you think you owe that girl an apology?”

“Probably.”

“Oh.” Dad scratched his head. “You want to tell me what the problem was?”

I gave a frustrated snort, “I’d love to, but I have no idea. All I know is there’s something weird going on.”

Grandma had stepped up beside Dad, no doubt curious to see the second generation’s parenting technique. Now she tag teamed with him. “Did Paige remind you of an old girlfriend? Is that why you wouldn’t talk to her?”

“No, not a girlfriend, but definitely someone I’ve met.”

I questioned Dad, “Remember when I showed the spec house in May to that lady with the southern accent?”

“Yeah,” he drew out the word, not sure where I was going with this.

“Well, today Grandma introduced me to her younger sister or daughter, or niece ... whatever. It was obvious they were related somehow. So do you want to tell me what’s going on? It’s clearly not a coincidence.”

Dad looked back at Grandma. “What did you say that girl’s name was again, Mom?”

“Paige Goddard. She and her mother go to our church. I’m sure you’ll see them on Sunday.”

“And her father, would I know him?”

“Oh, James, Paige’s father died ten years ago.”

I took a hard look at Grandma; she was holding something back. Whatever it was, she looked more nervous around Dad than angry at me right now.

“Fine. I’ll talk to Tim and we’ll figure this out.”

We left Grandma to put all the food away, heading out to the shop. Dad closed the door behind us, leaving us alone with the machinery Grandpa stored out there.

“Tim, I may not be able to read women as well as you can, but that woman raised me and I know her. She lied to me just now, and I don’t know why, or what about.” He looked around the room, trying to find something. “Can you describe the woman at the spec house to me?”

“Sure. I’d say about five foot seven, slim, probably a hundred and twenty pounds, medium chest, maybe a little smaller than Mom. Dirty blonde hair that fell to her shoulders, nice mouth, sexy voice.”

He had located his sketch pad and was now trying to figure out how to draw what I remembered. “You just described half the female population of Atlanta. Wasn’t there anything that stood out about her in your mind?”

“Yeah, her eyes and that voice. Wow, that voice sent shivers up my spine. And then her laugh. It was like music.” Just then I remembered that I had taken a picture of the woman and it was on my phone – a picture that I hadn’t shared in Seattle because Dad had been about to burn Ribeye steaks. I forwarded it now to him.

He stared at the portrait for a long while. “You’re right, Tim, no coincidences here. This woman, whatever she’s calling herself now, was my high school sweetheart: Evangeline Lillianne Mercer. She was, besides your mother, the only other woman that I ever loved. She’s part of the reason I ended up in Seattle.”

He looked at me sharply, “Whatever is going on though doesn’t concern you, and it definitely doesn’t have anything to do with that checkout girl. Don’t be a stubborn jackass; make sure you apologize to her.”

The irony of where we were and the events that led up to our being here struck him. “Two stubborn jackasses, that’s us.”