Keep My Own
By Kit Linford
Chapter 2
Synopsis: Irene Spencer, who has been married seven months, goes with her husband Dick to see his family home. Irene, who met Dick in South Africa and has no relatives in the States, is to live in the old home with Dick’s Grandfather and his young handicapped brother, who have been living elsewhere. The shabby old house repels Irene, and she is worried over her responsibilities in the strange household.
“Granddad, this is Irene,” Dick said.
Granddad might once have been as tall as his wiry grandson, but his shoulders were stooped with many years. A cane hooked over one arm also revealed his age. Otherwise, the few lines in his face accented his dignity. His hair was iron gray, with snow-white streaks running through it. He must have gone gray early like Dick, Irene thought.
Granddad took one of her hands into both of his. Sea-green eyes smiled into hers. “Dick has good taste,” he said mischievously. “I’ve always been partial to brown-eyed blondes. Dick’s letters have been full of nothing but you for the past year. I’m glad to know you at last, Irene.”
“Dick told me about you,” Irene spoke through a tightening in her throat. “About Davy, and how wonderful you and Aunt Ella have been… .”
“Let’s get on with your tour of the house,” Granddad interjected easily. He was embarrassed by reference to his sacrifices for his grandson. Irene understood, and a warm feeling of kinship with him flooded her.
He asked, “Have you been upstairs? Have you seen the solarium? The library? What have you missed?”
“Some other time, Granddad,” Dick said. “Irene’s pretty worn out. You weren’t home when we got here, so I took the key from Aunt Ella and we came over just to pass the time. Right now what we need most is something to eat.”
“No sooner said than done,” Granddad nodded. “Your Aunt Ella knew you’d be hungry. She’s fixing something now. We didn’t expect vou until tomorrow.”
“Dick was so anxious to get home that he didn’t stop to make any of the business calls he intended to make,” Irene explained.
“Then they’ll keep, I imagine.” Granddad grinned. “Let’s go. Come on, Davy.” He took the child’s hand and drew him out from where he was half-hidden behind him. Dick was startled. He hadn’t known the boy was there at all.
“Davy! I didn’t see you there! How’s my boy? Come on over here and let me have a look at you.”
He stooped down and sat on his heels, his arms extended. Davy retreated further behind his grandfather.
Granddad’s tone was reassuring. “It’s your brother Dick, Davy. Home at last. All the wav from South Africa.”
Dick looked up at Granddad. A puzzled frown pulled his eyebrows together. “He doesn’t remember me, does he?”
“No, not much. He was less than four years old when you left. He knows about you, though. He’s known for quite a while that you were coming home. He’s been waiting for you. He’s just a bit timid.”
Irene was mystified. “How do you know he was waiting? I mean, with his handicap…?”
There was a warning fire in Granddad’s eye. “Davy is not retarded mentally, Irene. He’s very normal in most ways. We never discuss him as if he can’t understand, because he can.”
Walking to the car, Granddad went ahead with Davy. Dick’s voice was low. “Granddad didn’t mean to be curt, honey, but you have to know about Davy. He’s really gifted in some ways. Granddad’s tutored the boy himself because, of course, we couldn’t place him in a public school, and financially we’ve been unable to hire anyone else. Granddad wanted to do it. He used to teach at the university. Under the circumstances, he’s done wonders with Davy.”
Irene mused, “When the child looks at you, Dick … well, I’ve never seen anything quite like it ”
“I know the look you mean. He used to do that before I left. Get that awful expression on his face. Sort of blank.” He drew a deep breath. “I don’t know exactly what it means. Granddad could explain it better … basically, I guess it’s a sort of defense, like not speaking. All of it is psychological. We made sure of that. There’s not a thing wrong with Davy physically.”
Davy scrambled into the back seat of Dick’s car and took refuge in a corner. Granddad was looking back at the house. After a moment of meditation, Dick spoke.
“It’s home. Granddad.”
“Our family belongs there,” Granddad said. “In a way, the house doesn’t belong to us. We belong to it.”
Irene was silent, the alien, apart from those who belonged.
Dick drew her back into the circle. “When I was just a little fellow Granddad used to recite John Burroughs, Irene. While I was away, it almost seemed I could hear the house itself intoning the same lines.”
“John Burroughs? I don’t think I know …”
“‘Waiting.’ That’s the one you mean, isn’t it?” Granddad asked. Dick nodded. Granddad went on, a quaver forming an emotional undertone to his words:
Serene, I fold my hands and wait,
Nor care for wind, nor tide, nor sea;
I rave no more ‘gainst time or fate.
For lo! My own shall come to me.
The stars come nightly to the sky;
The tidal wave unto the sea;
Nor time, nor space, nor deep, nor high,
Can keep my own away from me.
“That’s a part of it,” he said after a moment, “the part you probably mean.”
Dick was obviously moved by the recitation. “Yes.” He touched Irene’s arm. “Coming, honey?”
“Yes.” She glanced back once more.
The powerful motor of the car propelled them rapidly away down the wide street, leaving the grand old house alone and quiet again in the protecting shade of the trees that surrounded it. It had waited many years. It was content to wait yet a little time more for the return of its own.
“Now, Irene,” Granddad cautioned as they turned in the drive leading to the small house, “don’t take Dick’s Aunt Ella too seriously. She’s a bit brusque sometimes, but she means well. When you get to know her, you’ll think as much of her as we do.”
“You told me hardly anything about her, Dick,” Irene reminded.
“She’s a distant aunt on my mother’s side, honey,” he replied. “Granddad could tell you how distant. She doesn’t have anybody but us. She was my mother’s right hand, and she’s kept the family together ever since mother … since we lost her.”
Granddad nodded agreement.
The cottage was a white jewel, nestled in a setting of trees and grasses that still wore the new-green patterns of early spring. Irene sighed in appreciation.
“It’s such a pretty cottage,” she said.
“We’ve been comfortable here, but it’s not like living in our own home,” Granddad said.
Looking at the glistening white cottage, Irene wondered how anyone could prefer that gloomy old mansion to this.
Ella met them at the door. When they had arrived earlier, she had been bathing, and had told Dick where the key to the big house was. Irene was surprised to see that Ella wasn’t as old as she had originally surmised. Her hair was rolled into a neat bun high on the back of her head. Her figure was ample and her smile easy, when she chose to bestow it.
“It’s about time you came back,” she said. “Don’t you know it’s way past lunchtime? Or don’t you eat regularly in South Africa?”
Dick laughed at her. “People in South Africa are much the same as they are here, with much the same appetites. Something smells good, Aunt Ella!”
Granddad led Irene forward. “Ella, this is Dick’s wife, Irene.”
Ella stuck out her hand. Awkwardly, Irene took it. She wasn’t accustomed to women shaking hands. Indeed, handshaking at all was in Irene’s eyes, a purely American habit.
Ella pumped her arm for a moment, then dropped it unceremoniously.
“Glad to know you,” she said heartily. “Come in, come in. Everything’s ready. I know my Davy’s hungry.”
Davy ran to her, and they led the way to the kitchen.
Ella was justly proud of her culinary skills. A thick potato soup with flecks of ham floating atop it was followed by a delightfully crisp spring salad. The homemade dressing had a pleasing tang, the perfect complement to the delicate vegetables.
While the food was disappearing, Ella dominated the conversation. Irene listened to the steady run of her chatter, noting with a half-detached air of amusement that Ella was prone to both ask and answer most of her own questions.
“What did you think of the house? Big old place. Take a lot of work to get it into livable shape again. Old-fashioned before Dick left. Worse now. Give us all something to think about and work on, won’t it? Hard work never hurt anybody. Davy, drink your milk.”
The boy obeyed her without seeming to have heard her. Irene had been watching him out of the corner of her eye. She noticed that when he thought no one was watching him, the vacant expression dissipated itself. It had dissolved now into an unmistakable aura of hero-worship as he stared at Dick.
Granddad cut across the volley of Ella’s words. “Then you will move back to the big house with us, Ella?”
Ella paused in the middle of a sentence. “I thought you’d need me. A house that size is a big job for two women, let alone one. If you don’t want me, though… .”
“Now, don’t get touchy,” Granddad soothed. “Of course, we want you. Irene will need all the help she can get. I thought you might not want to leave here. You’ve made this house a home… .”
“I want to be where I’m needed,” Ella interrupted, a trifle testily. “There’s no purpose being anywhere if you’re not needed there.”
Granddad spread soft butter and thick honey on a hot biscuit. “How about it, Irene?”
Irene recalled distastefully the soot and grime and dust that mantled the big house. If she lacked enthusiasm, she couldn’t help it. Ella was appraising her with a sharp eye. She said quietly, “After all, it’s your home too, Ella.”
“Then that’s settled.” Granddad seemed well satisfied.
Granddad lay down in his hammock to nap. Davy went outside to play, and Ella busied herself about the house. Rejuvenated by the excellent luncheon, Dick and Irene strolled about the town. He wished to renew his memories of it, while she sought to become acquainted with it.
Ella guided her along the loved paths of his childhood with remembered skill. “How do you like it, honey?” he asked.
“Utah is just as I always thought it would be, and Spencerside seems to be a lovely little town. There’s just one thing…
“What’s that?”
“Wouldn’t it be more practical, business wise, to be located in one of the cities?”
“I considered it. Actually we’re not in a bad position here. About an hour’s drive to Salt Lake. Convenient to other towns as well. Advance bidding will bring me most of my work. It should work out fine in that respect.” He paused. “It might be practical later to open offices in the city, if I do that well.”
They sat on stools at the soda fountain in the drugstore and ordered malted milks. Dick introduced Irene to many friends and neighbors who stopped by to welcome him home. As they were finishing their drinks, he selected a bag of candy for Davy.
While he was paying the clerk, Irene came across a child’s book on a rack near the magazine stand. It was titled, See the New Baby. She looked through it, and when Dick rejoined her, she held it out for him to see.
“It might be hard to tell Davy about the baby,” she said, “but this might help. Not right away, of course. The time would seem so long to a child. Later, perhaps, when we’re better acquainted.”
Dick glanced at it, and was pleased by the illustrations and appealing text. “It may be just the ticket,” he said. He dug a few more coins out of his pocket and handed them to the clerk.
Irene was enchanted with the book, although she had hardly had time to read it. The pictures were charming. She anticipated Davy’s delight when she would give it to him. Then a shadow darkened the pleasing mental picture. Would he be delighted? Would he understand? Would he be jealous of the baby? How on earth was one to know? Oh, Davy, Davy. If only whatever sealed your voice could be undone, forgotten. If only you could speak!
Walking back to the cottage, Irene spoke hesitantly, broaching a subject she had thought of many times since she had heard about Davy. “Dick, as long as your grandfather and Ella haven’t been able to help Davy overcome his … difficulty … don’t you think it might be best to send him away, to a school for children with his handicap? There must be some excellent ones.
They’d know what to do for him much better than we do.”
Dick’s lips tightened. “I have talked to specialists about such arrangements, Irene. Because of the nature of his trouble, what brought it on and so forth, they don’t advise such a school, except as a last resort. I investigated several schools, too, and found that there are excellent ones, fine places that even specialize in his type of affliction. They aren’t for Davy. Not yet, at least. Not until home therapy, which the doctors continue to advise … has been proved a failure.”
“I see.” She tried to keep the bitterness she felt out of her tone. “Of course we must do whatever’s best for Davy.”
He glanced at her sharply. He had heard the undertone of her words, and recognized her selfish wish to set aside a responsibility, to relegate it to someone else. “Yes,” he said firmly, “we’ll do what’s best for him.”
Irene had mangled the beauty of the afternoon. She regretted it, but was at a loss to know how to make amends. They walked the rest of the way back to the cottage in a charged silence.
Granddad had awakened, for the hammock was empty. Dick saw Davy playing on the hillside back of the house. “Why don’t you go on in the house, Irene? I’ll go get Davy. Here, take the candy. You can give it to him.” He hurried away.
Irene rested a moment in the spring-scented coolness of the back porch. She was charmed by the cottage, and enjoyed the quiet aloneness of the porch. Then she froze in the act of sniffing the delectable aroma of Ella’s kitchen, as Ella’s voice came to her through the partially opened door.
“I want to give her the benefit of a doubt, too, but I’m not sure I like the idea of someone I don’t know taking much of the care of my Davy.”
“She may be just what he needs,” Granddad said, “a new mother image.”
“What do we know about her?” Ella demanded. “Nothing, that’s what. Just nothing.”
“You’re creating mountains without even a molehill to start. I know enough about her. I know she’s Dick’s wife. I know she gave up her home, and even her country, to come here with him. That takes grit, Ella. Grit and a lot of love for Dick. That should be enough to know.”
“All that’s well and good, but she seems mighty young to be taking on the responsibility of Davy.”
“I’m sure she’ll appreciate your help, Ella.”
Irene was confused. She didn’t know how to make her presence known without embarrassing Granddad and Ella.
“We’ve done well with him,” Ella insisted. “He’s shown lots of promise lately.”
Granddad sounded much like Dick when he said, “Small victories, Ella, little things, after all is said and done. Whenever we feel we’ve done so much, we should remind ourselves of one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“He still doesn’t speak.”
In the ringing silence that followed, Irene rattled the screen door and coughed a little to announce herself. As she entered the kitchen, she held out the candy.
“Dick bought it for Davy,” she said, “but there’s enough, if you’d like some.”
Granddad peered into the paper bag. “Well now! Salt water taffy. Thank you, Irene.”
“Ella?”
“No, thanks.” It wasn’t quite a rebuff. Ella softened the sharp impact with a hastily added, “I’m much too fat. I’m trying to stop eating so many sweets.”
“That’s a good idea,” Irene said. “I don’t want to gain too much weight before the baby comes. Maybe we could watch our diet together.”
“Baby?” Ella refused to lower her eyes.
“I must have forgotten to mention it,” Granddad said. “Dick wrote about it. October, I think he said. Is that right, Irene?”
“Yes. It’ll be quite an experience … I mean, I don’t know much about babies. I was the only child, and when I was orphaned I went to live with an aunt. I’ve just never been around babies. I’ll really appreciate having you, Ella. I think every new mother needs another woman, don’t you?”
The appeal was obvious. Granddad smiled to himself at Irene’s subtle diplomacy. He wondered how Ella would answer the plea that had touched every word Irene spoke, and still hung suspended in the air.
Ella had opened her mouth to speak when Dick and Davy burst noisily through the door. The moment was lost.
(To be continued)