Come Home

The Call (ch 20)

Chapter Twenty


The Call


         My cell phone is ringing. I cannot answer it during my meeting with my publisher. “I have sent your book to an in house editor.” Treena Carroll. “We are looking at the next big thing. After editing, we will be putting it out on the market.” She smiles. “I think that the next step is that the agency will offer you a contract with a deadline for the next. We are looking at a series.”


         This made me happy, but would I have enough material for another book about Sara. Maybe if I included the history of the house. A book in each couple decades or residents of the house.


         Excited by Treena's words, I shook hands. Half way to my car, my phone signals me that I have a missed call. It was my mother. I supposed that she just wanted to know how the meeting went. “I can call her back when I go to the diner for dinner.” I thought as I started the car.


         The parking lot was under the the building. It was a maze to find my way out. I had been there at lease four times since I started my career as a novelist, and I still had problems finding my way out.


         Once I got to the Blue Bird Diner, I sat down. I picked up my phone and called Mom back. “Where have you been?”


         The question surprised me because she knew that I had the meeting. “I met with the publisher today. What's up?”


         I got a call from Adult Care. They are releasing your dad next week. They need you to go fill out some paper work so they know where to send him.”


         I am not prepared to have this conversation. What was I to say? Rose was the one with all the plans this time about Dad. “Mom, the waitress has come to take my order. Do you mind if I call you back in a little while?”


         “Sure” She said. “Oh, sorry that I didn't remember you meeting. Tell me about it when you call back.”


         “I am fine with that,” I reply looking up at the girl standing with pad in hand patiently waiting for me to give her my order. “Sorry that was my mother.”


         Look at the girl. “ I would like some of that green herb tea and a whole grain bagel.” I smile , “Oh, could you send some honey too.”


         “Sure thing,” She smiles.


         I sit waiting for my order. All I could think of is that I needed to speak with Rose. I just didn't want to go to that house again. How could I reach her without making that dreadful trip?


         “Here you go,”says the waitress.


         Reading her name tag, “Thank you Gale.”


         “Let me know if  you need anything else.” She leaves my tea and bagel.


         I sip on the tea. It was warm. Its sweetness begins to relax me a little. I pour the steaming honey over the bagel. I have always loved this for lunch. Even the soothing warmth of the meal did not take all the stress of having to work out this family situation.


         I take out my laptop. Maybe, working on the book will redirect my thoughts.


I try to organize my notes so that in the left over words I would get ideas for the next book that I will undoubtedly write. I don't want to be caught with nothing go on when they hand me the contract to sign.          


         The book in process of being published and sold ends when Sara dies. It told the story of where she came from. It told about her marriage. It even covered how she started the fire that took the lives of her and Ada. I guess that I will have to recap the story a little in the first chapter. The rest would be of the events that followed. The house being rebuilt and the events in the lives of the next residents of the house. I might record a couple families. I don't think that I will introduce our adventure until the last book.


         Looking over my files, I could not believe all the true life documents that I had found. Sara's birth certificate, marriage likenesses, all the birth and death records of the children. News paper clippings of the fire was saved for reference. I seemed to have everything I needed to have created her life in the book that I just finished. I separated the documents into folders that I would possibly use in the next book.


         I really used everything that I could to change my thoughts. It didn't work so I decided to go home. “Hi, Mom.”


         “I thought that you would not becoming home until tomorrow. I thought that I would be getting a call from you instead.”


         “I thought that I would come on home. I finished the meeting. No real reason to stay.” I say while I give her a hug.


         “Ms. Writer,” Less was being himself. He was not one to take much seriously. “Are you a famous author yet?” He giggles nudging his new girl friend.


         “Well, they are talking a series of books.” I reply.


         “Like Stephen King?” his girl friend ask seriously.


         I could not even think about being as great as the King, but it was nice to be asked. “Be a long time until I get there.” I answer her.


         My brother walks her out the door to her ride home.


         “That is wonderful!” Mom says with true pride in her voice. Mom would not read the manuscript after finding that I was writing it about Sara. I still saw that she was happy that I was able to make it work for me.


         “Mom, I wanted to find out more about Dad.” I start.


         “Well, he is getting out next week. They want his children to sign to be responsible for him upon release.”


         “They want all of to do this?”


         “No I am sure that one of you could be responsible.”


         “Do you think that Sis would be interested?”


         “Her health is getting bad again,” Mom informs me.” I don't think that she is able to look out for him.”


         “I can't because of being gone all the time.” I said. “I think that Rose will. She is fixing the house for him. She could check on him once or twice a week. I will when I am in town.”


         “I  don't know how to reach her.” Mom explains. “I tried to find out how she is by calling Bob. He said that the last time he had talked to her was when she spent the night.”


         “Tomorrow, I will leave a message with Timothy. I think that he was going to check on her a while back. Maybe he can get a message to her without me having to make the trip to the house.”


         “That is a good idea.” Mom expresses her approval.


         I kiss her on the cheek. “Sorry, Mom. I have to bed.”


         “Good night, Love.” I love it when when calls me Love as she did when I was a little girl. That was my nick name to her, and the kids called me that for a long time. Less still does from time to time. I think of it as a badge of honor. One that means that I am important as the paddles of the rose.


         The next morning I call Timothy first thing when my eyes opened. “This is Timothy Enterprises, I can not answer the phone right now. Leave me a number to reach you.”


         “Timothy this is Matilda. Could you give me a call back on my cell phone. I need to get a message to Rose.”


         When I hung up the phone, I wondered what I would say when he did return the call.My words are ways to leave peices of myself behind for my children.

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