T. McClure - An Allegheny Homecoming

Great. His own mother didn’t recognize him. Josh wiped a hand over his face, as if by doing so he would erase the dark beard and longish hair. “Mom, what are you doing—” he waved one hand in the direction of the candles on the table “—here?”

Suzanna Campbell Hunter threw back the quilt. She wore a pair of khakis and a white cotton blouse. “We got locked in.” She glanced to her left.

Only then did Josh notice the man on the couch under a wool blanket.

His mother continued. “This is Joe Kowalsky. He owns the tea shop.” She paused, took a few hesitant steps in Josh’s direction, and then raced forward. “What am I thinking? Oh, Joshua, I’m so glad to see you.” She threw her arms around his neck.

With a hard look at the man on the bed, Josh wrapped his arms around his mother and squeezed. He was shocked. What had happened to the soft, plump woman he remembered her being his whole life? This woman was slight and small. The mop of hair under his chin was almost white. He eased out of her tight hold and touched an errant curl. “What happened to your blond hair?”

Sue’s mouth tightened, and she let out a sigh. “This is my natural color. I stopped dyeing my hair.” She lifted her chin. “I only did it to please your father, and now I just have to please myself.”

When Josh’s gaze dropped from the almost white hair to the pale blue eyes, she stopped talking. Although Josh knew why they separated, neither of his parents had talked to him about it. He still couldn’t believe his mother lived above the bakery. “How are you, Mom?”

The defiant look in her eyes dropped, and she smiled. “I’m fine, honey.” There was his mother. She had one of the prettiest smiles he had ever seen. He remembered the stranger on the couch. He strode across the room, hand outstretched. “I’m Josh Hunter.”

Throwing back the dark blanket, the man stood and reached for Josh’s hand. He was tall and thin, with brown hair and hazel eyes. He wore a pair of rectangular black glasses. Although he didn’t appear muscular, his grip was strong. “Joe Kowalsky. Your mother came down to help me carry up some supplies, and the branch broke off that silver maple in the parking lot. We were stuck. All we did was play a couple of games of checkers. Neither of us had a phone and—”

Josh held up his hand. “Why don’t we hold the explanations until later? That snow out there is coming down hard. Let me get you to shelter. My truck’s parked across the street.”

His mother gripped his arm. “But, Josh, what are you—”

“Later, Mom.” He looked around. “Do either of you have a coat?”

With a shy glance at the tall man, his mother chuckled. “I don’t usually need a coat.”

Josh puzzled over the faint pink flush on his mother’s cheeks. He shrugged. “Let’s lock up and find out where there’s shelter set up.”

“Probably the church basement. They have a generator.”

He blew out two of the votive candles. “Does Dad still have one at the house?” When he didn’t hear a reply, he turned around.

Her mouth tight, his mother folded the quilt. He dismissed any possibility of going home. He glanced in Joe’s direction. “I guess you don’t have a coat, either, then.”

“Upstairs. I just came down here for a minute.”

“Let’s make sure all these candles are out, get packed up and lock the doors.” He glanced around at the stacks of sealed boxes. “I wonder if they’ll have food at the church.”

Joe and his mother looked at each other before Joe reached for one of the boxes. “Good point, Josh. You say you have a truck?”

“I have a cake that the Foxes ordered for an anniversary party. We’ll take that, too.” Sue started toward the back door.

“Wait for me, Mom, I have a light.” He opened the door, and a gust of cold air blew into the basement. “Oh, by the way, I think I let a cat into your bakery.”

His mother shrugged. “That’s just Mister Cee.” She started up the steps.

“Excuse me?”

She turned. “Cappuccino Cat. We call him Mister Cee.” She disappeared up the steps into the darkness.

Josh shook his head. As if his parents’ separation weren’t enough of a surprise, now he discovered that his animal-avoiding mother had no problem with a cat living in the bakery. He shook his head. What else had happened in the time he had been gone?

* * *

PHIL HAD PRACTICALLY gulped down his hot coffee and had one arm in his monogrammed station jacket before Wendy could say much. She lifted her own cardboard cup of steaming coffee. “How did you finish your coffee so fast, Phil?”

He shrugged. “Working father of two. I do everything fast. See ya later, champ.” Empty jacket sleeve trailing behind him, Phil disappeared out the door.

“Wendy, would you like a ham sandwich?” Holly’s mother came up to the table with a tray.

Wendy remembered Holly’s mom was meant to be on her way to the hospital. “Sure. But can I help you out, Mrs. Hoffman?”

The petite woman smiled, lifted the tray and said, “Have your sandwich first, dear.”

Wendy quickly bit into the sandwich, relishing the fresh bread and spicy mustard. The church basement was warm and smelled of fresh coffee. She had two bites to go when Mrs. Hoffman returned with an empty tray and sat opposite her. “Don’t you have to get to the hospital?”

“I do.” Mrs. Hoffman nodded toward the kitchen. “But Fritz is helping with a clogged sink.” She gestured to where a pair of jean-clad legs stuck out from the cabinet below the sink. “We have plenty of time.” Lowering her voice, she leaned across the table. “I was in labor with Holly for nine hours. I doubt anything’ll happen before morning.”

Wendy was so focused on her career, she couldn’t imagine having a baby now and settling down. She finished her sandwich. “Thanks for the snack. Apart from some yogurt and my dad’s snacks, I think the fridge is empty at home.”

“You should stay the night. I hope somebody picks up Vera Hershberger. She’s all by herself. That little house will get cold quickly.”

Wendy realized if anybody knew the former teacher’s history it would be Rose Hoffman, who had lived in Bear Meadows all her life. “Has she been a widow a long time?”

Mrs. Hoffman’s green eyes caught her gaze and then slid away. “You should stay here tonight, Wendy. Your road probably hasn’t been plowed.”

Studying the older woman, Wendy could see where Holly and her three older brothers got their black hair. Mrs. Hoffman was as thin as Holly, although not as tall. Wendy tried another tack. “I was talking with Mrs. Hershberger the other day. Did you two go to school together?”

“Heavens, no. She’s years older than I am.” Mrs. Hoffman pressed her lips together. “But Vera is a lovely woman. And she’s been through so much.” She fixed her gaze on something over Wendy’s shoulder. “There’s Fritz. I’ve got to go, dear.”

Wendy zipped her coat and followed the Hoffman couple and Riley through the kitchen, into the parking lot. Someone had left a broom by the door. She grabbed it and carried it to her car, which was covered with two inches of snow in the hour she had been inside. Maybe she should consider the job in Burbank. At least she wouldn’t be freezing to death. Ten minutes later most of the snow had been removed from the windshield. She returned the broom, got into the car and put on her seat belt.

She stopped at the end of the driveway and checked both directions. A looming truck idled in the street, its signal indicating it was turning into the church parking lot. She waved and pulled out. Time to go home.

* * *

AFTER WAITING FOR a small car to exit, Josh pulled into the crowded church parking lot. The massive stone structure with its high bell tower loomed over the neighborhood. The front of the church was dark, but bright lights came from the back door. A generator ran noisily by the side of the building.