Long Way Home(118)

“You mean Frank Cishek?” I asked. “That’s a great idea.”

“And how about if we invite the new horse trainer from Blue Fence Farms?” Mr. Barnett said. He looked at me and winked when he said it.

“I would like that,” I said, blushing. “A lot!”

“Good. We have to go out there tomorrow to check on a couple of their horses. We’ll ask him then.”

“Peggy, please feel free to invite your father and his girlfriend,” Mrs. Barnett added.

“Okay. I will.” I had been avoiding going over to see Pop, but this would give me a good excuse to go. It was still light outside after we finished washing the dishes, so I summoned my nerve and walked across the street.

“Where have you been hiding out?” Pop asked. I found him in the garage, tinkering with a car engine. “We haven’t heard a peep from you.”

“I’m sorry. Jimmy finally came home from the hospital, so things have been busy over at the Barnetts’ house. I . . . I’m living with them for now.” Pop looked up from his work. He frowned but didn’t say anything. “I’m looking for an apartment,” I said quickly. “I won’t be living there forever. But it’s hard to find a place that will let me keep Buster.”

“You’re not making a pest of yourself, are you?”

“They invited me to stay.”

“You make sure you ask them. Tell them I want to know.”

Donna came out of Pop’s office just then, a cigarette in one hand and a letter in the other. “This came for you. I didn’t know where to forward it.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I meant to go to the post office and change my address, but I guess I forgot.” I looked down at the envelope. It was from Barbara Symanski. I could hardly wait to rip it open. “Listen, Donna, the Barnetts are having a Labor Day picnic and they invited you and Pop to come.”

“Tell them thanks but we have no business over there.” Donna nudged Pop’s ribs, then gestured to me. “Tell her our news, as long as she’s here.”

Pop cleared his throat. “Yeah . . . well . . . Donna and I are tying the knot. On her birthday. September 10.”

“Congratulations!” I said. “That’s great news.”

“Nothing big,” Donna said. “Just down at the city hall in Newburgh.”

“But we want you there,” Pop said. “To stand up with us.”

I was stunned. But pleased. It took me a moment to reply. “I-I . . . of course I’ll come. Thank you.”

I tore open Barbara’s letter as I hurried across the street again, then sank down on the back porch steps to read it.

Dear Peggy,

The leaves are changing colors, the schools will be opening soon, and I’m getting ready to start teaching my kindergarten class in a few days. But I wanted to thank you again for helping Joe and me and to tell you what’s been happening here in Ohio. Joe still has good days and bad days, but he knows he can always come to me whenever he needs to. I’ve been learning to be more patient and understanding with him and not to push him too hard or too quickly. He’s drinking a lot less than he did before, and I’m glad for that. We’ve both had to accept that he may never completely get over the awful experiences he had in the war. We’re trying to take one day at a time, and we’re committed to moving forward together.

He still doesn’t have a full-time job, but his friends at the fire station are helping him look for one. There’s a chance that with some training he might become a fire safety inspector or an arson investigator. He likes the idea of solving fiery crimes. In the meantime, he has been doing free car repairs for families at church who are down on their luck. He says your pop taught him a lot when he worked for him. And he says to give Tripod a good scratch behind the ears for him.

Joe and I will always be grateful to you for all your help, Peggy. Maybe we’ll ride out to visit you again next summer. Until then, I wish you well in all that you do.

Your friend,

Barbara

I was still sitting on the back steps, watching the fireflies and slapping mosquitoes, when Mrs. Barnett approached after closing her chicken coop for the night. “I invited Pop and Donna, but they already have plans,” I told her. I thought about what Pop had said about being a pest, and his words still unsettled me. I had to know the truth. “Can I ask you a question, Mrs. B.?”

“Sure, honey.”

“Pop wanted me to ask you . . . he wants to know if you’re sure I’m not being a pest?”

She sat down beside me on the step and wrapped her arm around my waist. “Dear, sweet Peggy,” she said, leaning against me. “I thought you knew by now how much you mean to Gordon and me. But maybe it’s high time we told you. You’ve been a wonderful companion and helper for Gordon, sharing his love of animals and the work that he does. He told me just the other day that he would be lost without you. But you’re so much more than that to both of us. You filled an empty place in our lives when Jimmy went off to war, and you’ve stood with us all these months as we’ve tried to get help for him. You’ve become a daughter to us in every way. The love we share with you is very special to us. We aren’t trying to take the place of your parents. Pop will always be your father. But you’re part of our family now, and you don’t ever need to think of yourself as anything else.”