Eileen Berger - A Family For Andi

They tried to include Andi in their conversation, but she didn’t identify the man about whom they were speaking—someone scheduled for a brain scan. They’d driven through town and out past the high school when Gram pointed. “That big stone house on the right is Karlyn’s. It was at the edge of town when they built it—before Joe Mueller died and his kids sold the farm to a developer!”

Andi wondered at the disapproval in her tone, but Keith reminded, “That was their right, Gram.”

“But Jake always had a fit about this sort of thing!”

“Not enough to make him put that stipulation in his will, however…”

Andi was brought back again to the major reason that she was here. In addition to getting to know her relatives, she must make sure that decisions concerning Dad’s will, and her own, cover as many bases as possible.

“Those cars nearer the garage won’t be able to get out, dear,” Gram murmured as Keith backed into the driveway.

He turned off the ignition. “But the road’s narrow through here, and I prefer not parking along its side. I’ll move mine if anyone wants to leave early.”

They were instantly surrounded by four excited children, introduced to her as Evelyn’s Brock and Melody, and Karlyn’s Jake and— Traci?

Uh-oh, that investigator had made at least a couple of slipups. Jake was undoubtedly a nickname for the “John” he’d reported, but he must have heard the name of the beautiful, dark-haired five-year-old and assumed her to be a boy, Tracy! She’d watch more carefully for other errors.

Karlyn had come to the corner of the house to invite them to the backyard, and Keith was escorted, tugged, by Brock and Jake. Gram, handing Andi the salad, was “helped” by Melody and Traci.

Keith’s parents were already there, Shelby giving Andi a special smile. “We’re so glad you joined us! Mom’s probably told you we have quite a few family get-togethers, and there’s always room for friends.”

Zack—tall, burly and middle-aged—strode over to take Andi’s hand. “I understand we let you down yesterday.”

“Nothing to feel sorry about, Mr. McHenry,” she reassured. “I’m enjoying my stay in Sylvan Falls.”

“Great!” His other hand clasped her shoulder. “It’s a wonderful place to live, and it’s good to hear that you appreciate it. If you’d like to stay indefinitely, we can keep putting off work on your car.” He waggled his eyebrows the way Dad sometimes did.

This can’t be genetic, can it? she wondered. But such a simple thing put her at ease. “Did your mother tell you I may stick around for a while?”

He grinned. “You’ll find that in our family, good news gets passed around real quick.”

She was glad that he stressed the word, implying they didn’t gossip in negative ways. “She told me about the carnival at the end of the week.”

His shoulders slumped and hands dropped to his sides. His words—“Don’t remind me of that!”—could have indicated despair, had his eyes not been bright with excitement.

“What’s your part in all this?”

“Well, for starters, we have floats to finish.”

“Floats? Plural?”

“Yep. Anyone can enter—churches, organizations, businesses. I happen to be active in First Church and in Rotary, and have a business.”

“You don’t need to help with all of them, do you?”

His wife responded to that. “For your own wellbeing, Annie, don’t even suggest he not work on all of them!”

Shelby was obviously teasing, so Andi felt safe asking, “Isn’t there something like conflict of interest involved here? I presume there’s some prize involved.”

Zack admitted, “They gave me a hard time about that when the garage won once, six years ago. But the church has received first prize—all of twenty-five dollars, incidentally!—six or eight times, and Rotary at least that often.”

“Congratulations!” Her head tipped forward in a nod of approbation. “So what’s the theme for yours this year?”

“Ah-ha! That’s what they all ask.” Again the active eyebrows. “But you have to wait like everyone else.”

Phyllis Bastian, Gram’s eldest offspring, was carrying food from the house to the long picnic tables, while Hal, her husband, turned hamburgers and hot dogs on the gas grill. “Hi, Annie.” He was waving long-handled tongs high in the air, and she recalled that he was a mechanic at Zack’s dealership. “I hear Keith made an unfortunate decision about your car yesterday.”

Keith didn’t look at all apologetic. “Once in a while I do make a decision.”

“…And now that I see what a knock-out you are, Annie,” he declared, “I see why he didn’t come ask for advice.”

“What can I say?” Keith looked at her with a crooked smile as he was dragged off by Brock and Jake for some game involving a beach ball.

Phyllis, whom Andi knew to be a second-shift supervisor of nursing at the community hospital, introduced her daughter, Evelyn Pinchot, as mother of Brock and Melody. They had little chance to visit, however, as the children soon came running to ask about putting on swimwear.

“Is Uncle Keith going in with you?”

Her daughter was bouncing up and down on tiptoe. “Can we, Mama? Can we go in swimming? He’ll watch us.”

“Is he putting on a suit and going in with you?”

The little girl’s lower lip pushed out in a pout, and it was Brock who turned to beg Keith, who had followed them. He rumpled the six-year-old’s hair. “Not. now, kids. Look at that platter of hamburgers and hot dogs and the rest of the spread! There’s no way I’m about to miss that!”

“Well, how ‘bout later? Will you go then?”

“We’ll see.”

They ran to check the last of the meat, being piled on top of the others by their grandfather. Their mother stood there, shaking her head. “I never thought you’d get away with such an evasive answer, Keith.”

“I can’t believe it either.”

Karlyn steered all four of the little ones toward the “wash-up station,” beside the house, stocked with a supply of towels. Evelyn followed, murmuring, “It’s simpler to prevent squirting one another with liquid soap than to give comfort after it’s in their eyes.”

Watching his sister with the children, Keith commented, “Karlyn’s a very good mother, and also an excellent second-grade elementary school teacher.”

Andi nodded, then asked, “Is everyone here?” She knew that Gram’s son, Bradley, had not arrived with his wife—nor had their daughter, who lived in Dalton.

“Aunt Paula doesn’t make it to many of our gatherings, but Vanessa usually does.” They were walking toward the laden table. “Will Uncle Brad be here, Gram?”

“I’m—not sure. Paula’s in the middle of that big defense case, you know. And Brad…is between jobs again.”

Keith’s lips tightened. “Oh.”

Oh?

“I called Vanessa—left a message on her answering machine. Unfortunately, I seldom get through to her.”

Andi wondered whether Gram’s disappointment about “getting through” to this granddaughter had to do only with the impersonality of equipment.

The long table, covered with red-and-white checked paper and with matching red tableware, was filled with meats, salads, rolls, vegetables, casseroles, relishes and beverages. Karlyn was the only one not seated when she announced, “Last chance, everyone. Look around. If things aren’t reported as missing, they won’t be forthcoming.”

Andi’s laughter joined that of Keith and the others. Then Karlyn was offering a prayer of thankfulness before everyone began talking at once and starting dishes of food around the table. Plates were loaded. “No, Melody, you can’t eat just pickles and chips,” Andi heard the child’s mother remind her.