Pam Andrews - Hometown Reunion

“You can probably tell that we come here a lot,” Scott said, letting his son hold the heavy hammer while he picked out an assortment of nails to go with it. “Remember when you helped me build a trellis for your aunt’s climbing roses?”

“It’s lasted all this time,” Lori said. “It’s so heavy with roses that it can’t even be painted anymore. When you build something, it’s certainly sturdy.”

“I seem to remember that you were a big help, especially when I spilled the nails and you helped me find them all.”

“You’re being kind. I was the one who knocked them over.”

“Were you?” He laughed. “I don’t remember that, but I do remember your purple phase. All you wore were purple shirts.”

“That was our school color! I remember you wearing a denim jacket with so many metal studs, you clanked when you walked.”

“Guilty,” he said, laughing. “Funny what we thought was cool when we were kids. Do you still paint your nails that silvery color? Always reminded me of a robot.”

She laughed at his teasing. The years seemed to fall away, and they were kids again, covering up their mutual affection with jokes.

Then, they split up for a moment, Joey choosing to go with her while his dad went to the lumber department. She got lost in the plumbing section and was a bit embarrassed to call on the little boy to lead her to the flooring section.

At the end of their trip, she had a stack of samples and absolutely no ideas about how the café should be decorated. Aunt Bess was expecting Scott to miraculously transform the old café into a town meeting place as well as a restaurant. It wasn’t going to be a quick or easy process. Revitalizing the building was going to take a lot of hard work and prayers, not to mention a big investment from the committee members.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Scott said to his son when they had paid for their purchases and were out in the parking lot.

He gave Lori his hand to help her into the space behind the driver’s seat. His palm was rough and calloused, but his touch was gentle, and she had an odd sensation of vertigo. She shook her head to clear it.

“Fasten your seat belt,” Joey reminded her.

“That’s right,” Scott said, nodding at his son. “The truck won’t go unless everyone is belted in.”

Scott was bareheaded today, his dark blond hair curling in the back, above the collar of his navy blue T-shirt. She could get only a glimpse of his face in the rearview mirror, and his eyes were masked by sunglasses. She could see his hands on the steering wheel, gripping it tightly as he drove with complete concentration. The deserted country road didn’t seem to call for so much intensity, but then, he did have his son beside him on the seat. She could read his determination to keep the little boy safe in the rigid set of his shoulders. Joey kept chattering, but Scott answered only in monosyllables.

When they got to the town where Scott had promised to stop for lunch, Joey literally bounced in his car seat. Lori wondered when she had last felt enthusiasm like his.

Her fervent prayer was that someday she would have a child of her own, someone to love without reservation. Joey reminded her of what she was missing. Maybe it would never happen. Maybe she would be like Aunt Bess, devoted to following the Lord and doing what she could for others. It was a good life, a satisfying life, but still her heart was moved by Joey, by his innocence and his zest for life.

They stopped, and she got out of the truck while Scott was occupied with extracting Joey from his car seat.

Scott smiled at her warmly and nodded at the rather garish fast-food place, with its enclosed play area on one side.

“Joey’s favorite restaurant,” he said a bit apologetically.

“I’ve never been here. It will be a new experience,” she said enthusiastically.

They were early for lunch, but still the play area was a busy place. As soon as they went through the restaurant’s door, Joey made a beeline for the enclosed play area, with a slide, climbing ropes, places to crawl and an enclosure filled with hundreds of red, green and yellow balls.

“I guess we’d better find a table and order some food,” Scott said, with a small smile. “Not that Joey has the slightest interest in eating while he’s here.”

She followed Scott to a green-topped table where he could keep an eye on his son while he played.

“What can I get for you?” he asked.

“I’d love something cold to drink, but I’m really not hungry,” she said.

“Yeah, I feel the same way about the food here,” he said, with a knowing grin. “I’ll just get some chicken nuggets and fries, which we can all share, if that’s okay with you.”

“Fine. I’ll just sit and watch Joey. He certainly can climb.”

“Like a monkey.”

If the noise level was any indication, a dozen or more kids were having the time of their lives. Lori was immensely entertained by their antics and almost tempted to jump into the deep layer of rubber balls, which came up to Joey’s waist. He was trying to shimmy across them, sending them flying in all directions.

Scott came back with a tray full of chicken nuggets and French fries, with an apple juice for Joey and tall cups of lemonade for them.

“I’ll tell him the food is here,” he said.

It was obvious that Joey preferred playing to eating, and Scott was an understanding father. He didn’t insist that his son come to the table.

“He’ll come when he gets hungry,” he said, returning alone.

Lori dipped a limp French fry in the ketchup that she had squeezed from a foil packet, but it was only to have something to do. Now that she was sitting alone with Scott, she didn’t know what to say. They sat for several minutes without saying anything, but it was a companionable silence. When he did speak, it was only to comment on how much Joey was enjoying himself.

“So how did you like working in Chicago?” he asked finally.

“I liked it, even though the job didn’t work out. I have a chance at another if I make up my mind soon enough,” she said.

He nodded but didn’t ask any more questions, and his reticence discouraged her from satisfying her curiosity about his wife, although she did wonder why he never mentioned Joey’s mother.

“You really do look good,” he said after he returned from checking on Joey.

It was the last thing she’d expected him to say, and she didn’t know how to respond.

“You’re not one of those cooks who enjoy their own food too much,” he said.

He smiled directly at her, and it was like the sun coming out on a gloomy day. She wanted to say something nice in return, but she was at a loss for words.

“Here he comes. I knew he’d get hungry eventually.” Scott stood to let his son slide into the booth beside him.

“That big kid kept hogging the slide,” Joey complained. “He sat there and wouldn’t let anyone else go down.”

“Maybe he’ll be gone when you’re done eating. You can play a little longer if Lori doesn’t mind,” Scott told him.

“No, of course not. I was tempted to jump into those balls myself,” Lori confessed.

“Big people aren’t supposed to,” Joey said, with a worried frown.

“I’m not really going to do it,” she assured him.

“Lori is very good at resisting temptation,” Scott said.

She couldn’t help but notice that Scott didn’t smile when he said that.

After letting Joey play awhile longer, they headed home. The little boy dozed off on the way back to Apple Grove, but the silence in the truck felt comfortable. She and Scott had grown up in the same town, had gone to the same schools, and had known the same people. Their shared history made it unnecessary to fill the time with words.