Halversham (5 page)

“Oh my, it’s gotten late.”

“Yeah. I should go now. I promise I’ll come by early tomorrow. And don’t worry about Corrine. I’m sure she’ll get better.”

They walked to the front door, and Andy gave her a long hug before stepping out into the dark.

Andy woke up before dawn and was lured to the window by a moonless sky. Out in the countryside, life started early with cows to milk, goats to feed, and chicken eggs to gather. Birch tree branches danced in eerie silhouettes, and the air was cold. The rain was coming. As he sat watching, Andy’s mind drifted. Within a day of his arrival, he had been reacquainted with his old friend Mort, offered a job, visited his mother’s favorite spot, fed a scrawny dog, and discovered his cousin was at the brink of insanity.

That was the thing about Halversham. Anything and everything could happen within a span of twenty-four hours, and then years could stretch on without a single significant incident. So much in the little town hadn’t changed, and yet so much had. He recalled Mort’s words about strange things happening in their garden and rose to get ready for Aunt Magda’s, making a mental note to talk to him later.

The first rays of sun glistened brightly above the hills like a jeweled crown as Andy walked to Aunt Magda’s. Baby wrens and robins were up and chirping for their first meal of the day as mother birds flitted about and clouds gathered in the sky, preparing for rainfall. Andy looked up warily and attempted to predict Corrine’s reaction when she finally saw him. Would he only draw a blank stare as her mother had said, or would she talk to him? Would she even remember him after three years? His heart had rapidly picked up pace since he left the farmhouse.

A few minutes later, he was knocking at the Curds’ front door. Jetta and Toddy looked up from their curled positions in the yard, wagged their tails limply, and went back to sleep. Aunt Magda opened the door in a hurry, one hand bunching up the corner of her apron.

“Oh hi, Andy. Good morning. I was just making breakfast. Come on in.”

“Good morning.” Andy entered the house and followed her to the back.

The kitchen smelled of warm coffee and Andy drew in a long, deep breath. She walked over to an old-fashioned oven and pulled open the door, and out came a tray of muffins, steaming and fragrant. She set the tray on the table and walked over to another vintage oven. She reached in with her gloved hands and pulled out an apple pie, cooked to golden perfection. The smell was enough to make Andy’s tummy growl.

Aunt Magda heard the rumble and laughed. “Let’s have something to eat,” she said, setting the tray on the table and removing her mittens. Andy pulled out a chair and sat, staring at the breads, croissants, cakes, and pies Aunt Magda had already made. She poured two cups of coffee and sat next to him. Then, leaning close to him, she whispered, “I need help delivering these to folks around town without your uncle finding out. I usually get Corrine to do it, but she wakes up late and people have started to complain.”

“I’ll help,” Andy said with a smile and patted her hand on the table. “Is business good? I mean, do a lot of people buy?” He reached for his coffee while Aunt Magda packed the croissants in individual plastic bags.

“Well, I’m never without orders, but I can’t take too many, you know? Can’t have your Uncle Matt find out.”

“Sure.”

“Which is why I have to pack and box these up before he wakes up.”

Andy nodded, munching on a heavenly piece of chocolate croissant. “You know what I think, Aunt Magda?”

“What?” She paused and glanced at him.

“Hmmm… This is so good.” He took another bite before continuing. “I think you should open a bakery.”

Aunt Magda smiled. “That’s sweet, Andy. But not with your uncle around,” she said with a sigh. “I really wish I could, though. Mag’s Cakes and Scones. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” She chuckled. “But it won’t be possible as long as Uncle Matt doesn’t change his ways. I can only pray.”

Andy nodded. His own mother had taught him a great deal about faith, so he understood Aunt Magda’s devotion. But after losing his mother the way he did, he couldn’t honestly say he believed in the power of prayer anymore. Or of divine presence, for that matter.

By the time Andy finished breakfast, Aunt Magda had packed all of the morning’s deliveries into a single bag. Andy rose to pick it up from the counter as Uncle Matt walked into the dining room. His face was scrunched up against the light, and one of his eyes was squeezed shut as he went to the kitchen to get a mug. The man obviously had not shaved in weeks, and he looked older than ever with his belly hanging over a pair of tawdry shorts. Aunt Magda swiftly pushed the packed bag behind her kitchen appliances on the cluttered counter.

“Who have we got here?” Uncle Matt said, cocking his head for a closer look at Andy. Outside, the sky groaned and it began to rain.

“Good morning, Uncle Matt. It’s Andy Monaghan.”

“Ah, the blue-eyed boy from the city. When did you arrive?” he asked, walking to the dining table with a chipped mug while Aunt Magda busied herself with serving him breakfast.

“Two days ago. How are you?”

“I’m doin’ fine, kid. Not as fine as you, but I’m fine,” he said, appraising Andy from top to toe. He sipped his coffee and lowered the mug. “Two days ago and you didn’t come say hi to your Uncle Matt till today?” Aunt Magda placed a plate of croissants in front of him and he picked one up.

“I came by every day. But Aunt Magda said you’d gone to work.”

“Did she now?” He bit into the croissant. “Your daddy in town?”

“No. He had to rush back the day we arrived. Had some business to take care of.”

“Busy man, your daddy,” Uncle Matt said, scratching his belly in long slow strokes. “How long you gonna be in town for?” he asked with a mouthful of croissant.

“A month.”

“Sweet. Your daddy’s gonna tend to your needs while you’re in town?” Andy wasn’t sure exactly what his uncle meant but nodded anyway. “Why are you standin’ by the door, kid? You goin’ somewhere?” Andy glanced briefly at Aunt Magda, who was washing the dishes, and turned back to Uncle Matt. He shook his head. “Good. It’s rainin’ anyway. Come on over here and talk to your Uncle Matt for a minute, would ya?” Andy walked to the small table and pulled out a chair. Uncle Matt held the remaining croissant in both hands and said, “I want to tell you how sorry I am about your mother.”

Andy nodded.

“She’s about the sweetest woman I’ve ever known. Heck, she’s the sweetest thing this godforsaken town has ever known. Now, just ’cause I didn’t attend the funeral don’t mean that I don’t care. But business here’s not like your dad’s. No easy money around here. A man’s gotta work hard to weigh a dime in his pocket. But I grieved for her all the same, kid.” He shoved the final piece of croissant into his mouth.

Andy couldn’t be sure if anything his uncle said was true, but he knew better than to antagonize him. The truth was, he didn’t care much about what this man had to say. So Andy nodded again without a word.

“Anyway, you hang in there, kid. They say God works in mysterious ways. Maybe somethin’ good’ll come out of it.” He finished his coffee and burped. Aunt Magda came back from the kitchen and cleared his mug and plate. She placed them in the sink and returned with a cloth to wipe crumbs off the table. “I’m gonna take a shower and get ready to begin a hard day’s work. You understand?”

“Yes,” Andy said.

“Good. You be good now,” he said and left the dining room, scratching his stubbled jaw.

The rain was coming down in sheets and there was no way Andy could deliver the baked goods now.

Aunt Magda glanced at her husband’s back, exhaled, and closed her eyes. “I’m going to go check up on Corrine. Try and tell her you’re here,” she said, and left the room.

Andy looked at his watch—half past eight. He walked to the sink and washed whatever was in there, including Uncle Matt’s chipped mug and plate. His heartbeat rose rapidly once again at the thought of meeting Corrine—he didn’t know what to expect or how she’d react to him after all these years. They weren’t that close when they were younger, but she had always willingly told him all her misfortunes and bad behaviors right after the fact. And he had listened, just like he listened to everyone else who sought his counsel.

Andy jolted at the sudden noise of a door slamming against a wall followed by a shrill female voice. It was as if someone was whining and screaming at the same time in a high-pitched voice. He rushed to the hallway and saw Corrine standing just outside her room, glaring at her mother.

“Corrine, listen to me. There’s someone here to see you. I know you’d like to see him too,” Aunt Magda said in a soft, soothing voice to a hysterical Corrine. His cousin was dressed in a faded pair of
SpongeBob SquarePants
pajamas and her tangled blond hair pointed wildly in every direction. Although she was taller than before, the Corrine he’d known was stamped over every inch of her: in the way she stood, glared, clenched her fists, and in the way she kept her chest raised ever so slightly. She was almost as tall as Andy, but as skinny as the dog he had seen by the foothill.

“Corrine?” Andy called out. His voice was soft, but she heard him. Her tight fist loosened gradually and so did the wrinkled expression on her face. Andy plastered a smile on his own face to disguise the churning in his gut. “Hi,” he said simply, tucking his hands in his pockets as he walked toward her. He wanted the encounter to be as casual as possible. Friendly. Aunt Magda slipped away quietly, leaving the two alone in the hallway.

“Andy?” Corrine spoke with a curious look on her face.

He had expected a blank stare and vacant eyes, the way Aunt Magda described yesterday. “Yeah, it’s me. How are you?”

“Andy?” She said again. A curve formed briefly on her lips before they quivered in sadness and the corners of her eyes wilted. She rushed toward him and hugged him tightly, saying his name one last time. “Andy!”

Andy was instantly grateful for two things: that she hadn’t forgotten him and that she didn’t go crazy on him. Yes, a part of him was still afraid of her wild, unpredictable ways, but another part was genuinely happy to see her. His smile ruptured into laughter as she sniffled on his shoulder.

“Hey,” he said and tapped her back awkwardly.

Seconds later, she let him go and took a long look at his face. “You look good,” she said, smiling. There were no tears on her face. “Come.” She tugged his arm, pulling him into her room. From the corner of his eye, Andy saw Uncle Matt coming out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.

Corrine’s room was no more than a standard bedroom. There was a wooden table with the top layer peeling off, a wooden chair with the pink cushion torn, a sturdy bed with a sunken mattress, and a broken cupboard propped up on a brick. The walls were bare and the paint flaking in some sections. The ceiling had a large patch of brown, indicating that water had seeped through the roof at some point. Was this how her room had always been?

“Welcome to my beautiful bedroom,” she said, locking the door behind them and twirling like a ballerina. Andy watched with a smile and she stopped. “So, you’re back.” She walked over to the bed and sat on the sagging mattress.

“For a month.”

“Cool. Oh, shit! I forgot. I’m sorry about your mom.”

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“Come,” she said, tapping the mattress. “Come sit and we can talk.” Andy walked over and sat on the mattress cautiously, thinking of what to say. Her merriment had taken him quite by surprise. “What’s the matter?” Andy looked at his lap shyly and smiled. “Did my mom tell you something?”

“Well, she just said you don’t talk to anyone anymore. And that you space out whenever people try to talk to you. I thought you were about to do the same to me.”

“It’s true.” She shrugged. “I don’t talk to anyone here. They think I’m crazy.”

Outside, the rain had slowed to a drizzle. There were so many things Andy wanted to ask her now that she wasn’t as strange as he feared, but he had to make the deliveries. “Listen, why don’t we get out of here?” he asked and Corrine’s eyes shone. “I promised your mother I’d deliver her baked goods to the townsfolk and I’m kind of late. Why don’t you and I go together?”

“Sure thing.” She rose so quickly she almost knocked him off the bed. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll be ready.”

Andy left her alone and waited in the dining room. Aunt Magda was already preparing for the day’s meal, peeling carrots and onions. She paused and put the knife down when she saw him. “She talked to you, didn’t she? I heard.”

Uncle Matt stepped out of his room in a clean shirt and pants, and nodded at both of them. They watched as he picked up his cap hooked to a nail on the back door, put it on, and opened the door. “See you later,” he said, closing the door behind him.

“Yes, she spoke to me,” Andy said after he had left.

“Oh, thank the Lord. So she’s not completely crazy. What did she say?”

“We didn’t talk too much yet. I thought I’d bring her along to make the deliveries and we’d talk along the way. She’s getting ready now.”

“That’s great, Andy. That’s really great,” Aunt Magda said. “She doesn’t really have any friends here. Everyone’s taken a step back since she dropped out of school, and she’s become a kind of recluse. Maybe you can bring her back to herself again.”

“I promise I’ll try,” Andy said, and he meant it. “Now, tell me who I need to deliver these wonderful treats to.”

She made a list of names and noted which item went to which household. Some of the names Andy didn’t know, and a few others he recognized but didn’t know their addresses.