All Roads Lead Home (Bellingwood) (4 page)

She heard him mumbling as he followed her
.

Henry looked at
the shelves in the pantry.

"What happened here?" he asked. "Did
you go shopping? I thought you were painting all weekend?"

"Oh, some of the ladies from town happened here. Yesterday."
she said. "
T
here were four of them. T
hey kind of
tornadoed
in and I
didn't know what to say!"

"That's great,” he
laughed
. "They probably
could
hardly
wait. Let's see. Lydia Merritt was the leader, wasn't
she!
" His mouth opened up in an immense grin and he
could
barely
hold back the laughter.

"Yep.
It was Lydia and let's
see
if I
remember," Polly stopped and thought.
"Beryl
someone
, Andy
something
,
and Sylvie Donovan.
She didn't seem to fit in with them, but it look
ed
like tha
t wasn't going to sway the others
. They had her firmly in hand."

"I don't know Sylvie, but those other three women
are a threat to your peace and quiet. Once you are their friend, everyone will
know who you are and will be interested in what you are doing."

"What?"
She
asked, a little panicked.

"Oh,
don’t
get
me wrong," he said. "
They’re amazing and
three of the best people I've ever known. They will take care of
you."

He stopped speaking and a little chuckle
bubbled
out from
behind his lips. "
I
call them the Musketeers. If one of them thinks
something should be done or someone needs something,
the others
stand
with
her
and the next thing you know, the world
is different
.
It’s like magic.

He continued,
"All
I'm saying is that your
quiet
little life here is now officially over. I hope
you’re ready.
Now, before I say anything
more, I need coffee."

Henry had been in the kitchen enough to know where the
mugs were. He pulled one out and walked over to the pot to fill it.

"Since Lydia was here, did she bring anything
good to eat for breakfast?" he asked.

"Oh, that's funny," Polly replied. "We
had cookies and scones yesterday. I'm sure there is som
ething else in the fridge, but
I haven't had time to look."

"Well, let's fix that," Henry said and
pulled open the doo
r of the first
refrigerator. "
Huh,
Andy's been busy
.
E
verything is neatly labeled.

"Taco meat, spaghetti sauce, meatballs, shredded
lettuce, sliced tomatoes, chopped carrots and celery. Good heavens, lunch and dinner
are certainly ... oh, here we go! This has potential!"

He
pulled out a
large plastic container filled with small bags.

"What does it say?" Polly asked.

"
’
Breakfast sandwiches.
’
We have
ham, bacon and sausage. All you have to do is microwave them," he said.

"How do you know that?"

Henry tipped the container so she could see. Each bag
was individually labeled and on
the
underside of the lid was an instruction
card.

"I'm not even sure what to say," Polly
laughed, "but I'll heat some up. Do you want one or two?"

"I want two of these," and he began flipp
ing through the bags. "Here, sausage and
ham for me. What would you like?"

"Let's make it even and
give me a
bacon
sandwich
."
Polly
tore open the
bags and placed the sandwiches on a dish and into the
microwave.

Henry
returned
the container
to
the refrigerator and pulled out another.

"Would you like some fruit
as well
?"
he asked.

"Sure!" Polly took out plates and opened
the silverware drawer
. She put everything on the table and pointed at a chair, so Henry sat
down. When the microwave announced its completion, she took the plate out and
walked back to the table.

They sat in silence for a few minutes while eating and
drinking. Th
e
quiet was broken by the sounds of more vehicles
pulling into the lot out front and workmen bringing their tools and supplies in
to the building
.

Polly looked at Henry, shrugged and said, "
I’m
sorry ... I
need to
handle
this." He took one last bite and gathered up the
dishes.

"Just drop them in the sink, I'll deal with them
later," Polly said as she headed out the kitchen door.

Walking out into the main room,
Polly saw
Jerry
Allen,
her
electrical contractor.
"Hi Jerry!
What's up for you guys today?"

"Oh, we've finished the big rooms upstairs, we
still have to rewire
the bathrooms up
there, but we’re working
on
the main level
.
I want
to make
sure there is good power in the basement as well." He turned to Polly. I'm
glad you aren't asking us to go through all of this concrete. It would take
forever and make a real mess."

She smiled. "
You
do whatever is right and I'll be fine. I think the
plans we have in place
will
work
." She shook her head. "I still can't get
over how little people expected to be using electricity in a school. If I had
my way, there would be quad plugs every two feet.”

"We'll get it done, Miss Giller."

She stopped him, "Please ... it's just Polly."

Polly started up the steps,
then
said,
“You
know where the coffee pot is in the kitchen. Help
yourselves!"

She went on up
to
her
room. She shut
the door
, changed into slacks and a red blouse, and then
grabbed her sweater. When she got back downstairs, she ducked into the
classroom where
Henry had set up his shop
.

Several other men had arrived and were measuring and
sorting through the moldings. They looked up at her arrival and each nodded a
hello. Polly recognized them and after her encounter with the women over the
weekend realized she should pay attention to
their names
, especially since she
would probably see
them
on a regular basis.

“I’m sorry, guys. Will you tell me your names again?”
she asked.

One by one the three men stood, “I’m Marvin Davis,”
the first said with a bit of a drawl and held out his hand to shake Polly’s,
“but the guys call me Peaches.”

Polly cocked her head and asked, “Why would they call
you Peaches?”

“Oh, because they think I sound like I’m from Georgia.
Like anyone around here knows what a guy from Georgia sounds like.” He scowled
at the two other men. Marvin was in his mid to late fifties and looked like
he’d spent a lot of time working outside.

“Peaches here got his name ‘
cuz
he’s such a sweet guy, just like peaches and cream,”
drawled the next guy, who came up to stand next to him. His voice straightened
out as he said, “I’m Leroy Forster. C
all
me Leroy.”

“Ok
ay
, I’ll do that!” Polly replied with a smirk. Leroy was
no spring chicken. He had terrible scars on his hands, but tattoos on his
forearms covered any scarring
which
might
have been
there
. When he shook her hand, she felt a
great deal of strength radiating from
him
.

The third man said quietly, “I’m Ben Bowen. I’m the
guy who does all the work around here while these two
chat
it up with pretty women.”

Leroy said, “Y
e
ah, we call him Pretty Boy.”

“But, you can call me Ben.” He
took Polly’s hand in both of his. “Thanks for
renovating this school ma’am. It’s a real pleasure to be bringing the old place
back to life. I went to school a long time ago in this place and it’s nice to
know it will see people again. I appreciate the work, too.”

“Thanks Ben, Leroy,
Marvin
. I promise I’ll remember
from now on!” Polly said and then walked over to Henry. "I'm heading out
to see what those barn boards look like for the floors. Anything else I
need
to
know
?"

"
You
should be fine," he responded, "I've talked
to the guy and had Butch stop by as well. Since he'll be do
ing
the milling,
I wanted him to see
things
before I talked to you. He said they looked
good
as long as
you like the color."

"Great. I'll see you later!"

Polly walked to the front door and turned around
to look at her home
. The morning was starting
to
buzz. She loved her Mondays
now. Each
week, workmen came in and started on
a
project. It was exciting. There was always some
interesting decision to make, like the week she had to pick out the kitchen
appliances. She had nearly cried with joy every time she got to choose the
perfect large appliance for her kitchen. Things she had
only
dreamed
about having were suddenly showing up in her
home
.

She pulled the door shut behind her and walked down
the front steps to her truck.

It took about twenty minutes to get to the farm where
the barn boards were located. Polly pulled into the drive. This was hard for
her. Even though she knew she was expected, knocking on a stranger's door felt
weird. She thought about it on the drive down and decided it was
also
weird that
she was uncomfortable with this. She'd grown up on a farm and when she was
young,
her parents never had a problem with people knocking
at the door.

Polly’s mom had died when she was twelve and they'd
had a housekeeper who spent her days at the house. Her husband had been Polly's
father's right hand man on the farm. The two of them,
Sylvester
and
Mary Shore, arrived every morning at 6:30 and left after supper every evening. They'd
never had kids and had been friends with Polly's parents long before she was
born. After Polly's mother died, Mary quit her job as a doctor's receptionist
and made sure the young girl was healthy and happy. It had been a pretty good
life.

But
now, it was
time
for Polly
to walk up to a stranger's door. No one ever went in
the front door when she lived on the farm. It seemed like everyone knew you
went to the back door. But Polly had been away for a long time and she had no
idea if that was still the right thing to do. She sat in her
truck
for a few
minutes trying to figure out the lay of the land. If she went in the front
door, they might think she was trying to be too
formal, but
she didn't want them
to think she was too forward by going to the back door. Oh, she hated this part
of getting to know people.

As
she put her
hand
out to open the door
of her truck, the back door
of the house
opened
and a young woman walked outside. Polly
pulled
the latch
and stepped out of her car.

"Are you Polly? Polly Giller?" asked the young
woman.

"Yes, I am." Polly said with
more than
a
little relief.

"Brad's in the barn. He told me to keep an eye
out for you. It’s this way," the young woman said. "By the way, my
name is Lee. I hope you like these boards. I think they're beautiful, but Brad
says there is no reason for us to keep them. This old house
already
has nice
wood floors, so I guess I don't need them."