“I would if I were you. It’s not that you don’t trust them. It’s just that it will simplify your life to have everyone on the same page.”
“I’m sure that Paul, my late husband, would totally agree with you. He was an attorney and believed in dotting his i’s and crossing his t’s. So thanks for bringing it up.” She refilled her coffee mug, then asked him if he wanted another cup.
“I wouldn’t refuse a refill. Who knows how long the ladies will take upstairs.”
She handed him a steaming mug, then led them back to the library. After they were settled, she asked Marcus about his childhood. “Windy told me about growing up in a commune. Was that your experience too?”
“Somewhat. I’m six years older than Windy so my family history is a bit different. I was in third grade when my parents joined the commune. I wasn’t too thrilled to leave our neighborhood and my friends behind. Windy was a toddler so I doubt she remembers much about life before. My parents had been fringeinvolved with this group for a while, so I did know some of the families out there. Just the same, I never really fit in.”
“Windy told me her given name was September Wind, but Marcus sounds pretty pedestrian to me.”
“My parents named me August Storm.” He grimaced. “They used to call me Storm. Windy sometimes still does, but I don’t appreciate it. As soon as I was old enough, I changed it to Marcus.” His dark eyes twinkled. “I had a childhood friend at the commune. River ... don’t recall his last name. Anyway, he was a couple years older than me, and he had this little black-and-white TV in his closet. His grandma snuck it to him for a birthday one year. Real contraband on the commune. But he and I used to get out of chores and hide in there and watch old reruns.The Riflemanwas our favorite. We’d play Rifleman in the woods, using sticks as guns. He became Lucas and I was Marcus. So when I got out of that place, I decided to take the name permanently.”
“How old were you when you left the commune?”
“Eighteen. I infuriated my parents by joining the Air Force.”
“My son’s in the Air Force.” She told him a bit about Brent’s military career and recent deployment to the Middle East. “He’s always been a computer wiz, and the training he’s gotten there will probably be good preparation for his next job.” She pursed her lips.
“Are you worried about him?”
“Of course.” She forced a smile. “But I try to use worry as a flag to remind me to pray for him. Better for both of us that way.”
“That’s wise.” He shared how, after enlisting twice, he’d used his GI bill to get a teaching degree. “I thought serving in the military was tough, and then I taught middle school for more than twenty years. Let me tell you, that’s really tough.”
“Did you get combat pay?” she teased.
He grinned. “I should’ve. I retired last year. I’m still getting used to having all this free time on my hands.”
“What did you teach?”
“Social studies.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“I suppose it was. More so early on. Kids have gotten a lot more complicated and less motivated. And computers are a convenient but invasive part of that. Mostly I enjoyed teaching history.” He stood to peruse Paul’s book section again. “That’s why some of your titles here interested me. Someone loves US history.”
“That was my husband’s collection.” She wondered what Paul would think of her new plan to take in boarders. He’d probably approve since it allowed her to stay in their home. That had worried him a lot before he passed. “Paul loved to read, but because of his legal work, he didn’t always have time. Some of those books have never been opened. They were for his retirement ... and then, well, he passed.”
“How long has it been?” he asked gently.
“A year and a half.”
“I’m sorry. I know that’s hard.” He removed a Clancy hardback from the shelf. “I lost my wife close to six years ago and I still miss her sometimes.”
“Sometimes?”
His smile was sad as he opened the book. “It used to feel hard all the time, but I’d have to say it’s down to just sometimes now. So, you see, it does get better ... in time.”
“Right.” She wrapped her hands around her coffee mug. “That’s encouraging.”
“Do you have other children?” he asked. “Besides your Air Force son?”
“Yes. McKenzie is my firstborn, though she goes by Kenzie. She’s two years older than Brent and just took a job in New York.” She felt a twinge of maternal longing. “How about you? Any kids?”
“My wife had health issues so we never had any. I guess the school kids were enough for me.” He held up the Clancy novel. “I can’t believe I’ve never read this one before. I thought I’d read them all.”
“Feel free to borrow it.”
