The Homecoming Hero Returns. Joan Elliott Pickart
“Whoa,” Sandra said. “Let’s postpone the wars until after you’ve had some food. What will it be, my sweets?”
“Pancakes,” David said, striding into the room, his hair still wet from his shower. “I’m going to make my specialty of blueberry pancakes.”
Sandra laughed. “Without the blueberries because we don’t have any. I’m going to the grocery store later and will get some. Are there any at the emporium?”
“Nope, they were sold out, but no problem,” David said, rubbing his hands together. “I’ll make up for the lack of blueberries by making my famous animal-shaped pancakes.”
“Cool,” Michael said. “I want one huge dinosaur.”
“Yuck,” Molly said. “I want a lot of nice little butterflies.”
“And you, madam?” David said to Sandra.
“Well, let’s see,” she said, tapping one fingertip on her chin. “A teddy bear, please, sir.”
“Got it. Okay, M and M, go get dressed, make your beds and by the time you get back we’ll be ready to roll here.”
The twins dashed from the room.
“They’re so cute,” Sandra said. “Ten is a wacky age, isn’t it? You’ve been making animal pancakes since you would put them on their high chair trays and they still think it’s super. One minute they try to act so grown up and the next second they’re just our babies again.”
David started pulling what he needed from the cupboards.
“Yeah,” he said, “but they’ll be up and grown, then out the door and gone before we know it. I hate the thought of that, I really do, but you can’t stop the clock from ticking. When it’s time for them to go, they’ll go.”
A chill swept through Sandra as she stared at David’s broad back.
Was that his decision? she thought frantically. Had he made up his mind to grit his teeth and hang in here until the twins left home because he loved them so much? But then it would be time for him to go, too? Dear God, was she destined to lose her whole family at once?
“You know,” she said, her voice not quite steady, “I think I’ll pass on the pancake, David. I licked the frosting bowl and I really don’t want sweet syrup at this point.”
“Whatever,” David said, beginning to stir the batter in the bowl. “The kids and I will eat your share.”
“I’m sure you will. I’m going to go gather the wash.”
Sandra hurried from the kitchen. David frowned as he watched her go, then flicked on the radio on the counter and began to sing along off-key to a country and western tune about having friends in low places.
The Westport home was an apartment on the fourth floor of an old brick building. It had the exact same floor plan as every other apartment on their street and several adjacent ones. The eating area was in the kitchen, the door opened directly into a common hallway with no extra frills like a foyer or entryway. The three bedrooms were small, the living room fairly good-sized. There was a laundry room in the basement of the building.
David and Sandra had borrowed the money for the down payment on the apartment from Sandra’s parents when David dropped out of Saunders and had long since paid back the loan. David had gone to work at a nearby grocery store while Sandra continued to wait tables until her doctor told her she had to quit the job and get off her feet if she hoped to carry the twins to term.
When the owner of the grocery store decided to retire three years later he offered David the opportunity to buy the place with reasonable monthly payments. Westport’s Emporium had been born and flourished under David’s management. He added a great many Italian delicacies as the majority of the citizens residing in the North End of Boston were Italians.
David also broadened the range of what was available to his customers, such as greeting cards, inexpensive gifts for that last minute invitation, supplies needed for barbecuing outside on the fire escape, which was a favorite summer activity in the neighborhood, and other items that a person often needed but didn’t want to drive to the larger markets to buy.
The store was doing well, but had reached its financial potential, while the cost of raising two children continued to rise as the twins became active in sports and seemed to outgrow their clothes overnight.
Sandra’s part-time job at the newspaper helped the budget some but there never seemed to be money for any extras. Plus, the recent news that both kids were going to need braces on their teeth had caused more than one tossing and turning night for their parents.
As Sandra gathered the wash from the hampers in each bedroom she found herself once again dwelling on the money dilemma. David was still adamant about her not working full-time, wanted her home when the children returned from school each day. Michael and Molly were not going to be latch-key kids no matter how tight the budget became, and she agreed totally with David on the subject.
One possibility David had suggested in the wee hours of a night was to purchase the empty storefront next to the emporium, punch through the wall and expand.
Back in the kitchen, Sandra sorted the wash into piles on the floor, then reloaded the basket.
If they got a loan to purchase the empty building, she thought, they would be so deeply in debt, providing, of course, they could even qualify for the loan in the first place. She’d had a glimmer of hope when David had suggested the idea as it didn’t make sense that he would be thinking of expanding the store if he was planning to leave her because he just didn’t love her anymore.
But then this morning he’d made that reference to how quickly the twins would be up and gone and she couldn’t erase from her mind the image of David following them right out the door when they left.
Oh, David, she thought, wrapping her hands around her elbows. They had been so happy once, so in love, seeing nothing but sunshine and blue skies in each new day. They’d adored their newborn babies, shared the chores connected with twins and ate endless macaroni and cheese dinners while taking turns making up delectable meals they would pretend to be eating.
But at some point—oh, when had it begun?—a distance grew between them. David’s focused more and more on the children and the store, hardly seeming to have time for her at all.
It was too many years of just scraping by, she was convinced. Too many. David knew what he could have had as a professional ball player and resented the shattering of his dreams. If he ever forgot what his potential had been, his father was right there ready to remind him, having never forgiven his son for not achieving the goals set for him by the senior Mr. Westport.
“Hanging out with dirty laundry?” David said, poking his head through the doorway.
“What?” Sandra said, as she came back to the moment. “David, when are we going to discuss further the possibility of expanding the store?”
“I’m mulling it over,” he said, “and I also want to meet with the accountant and get his opinion.”
What about her opinion? Sandra thought. David had never really asked her how she felt about it, had just said it was an idea that had popped into his head and might, or might not, be the answer they were looking for.
“Oh.” Sandra nodded. “Well, I thought you and I could sit down and make a list. You know, pro and con. Brainstorm the whole thing…together.”
“Yeah, maybe. Listen, I’m taking the kids over to the city pool. Too bad you don’t like to swim because it’s at least a way to cool off for a while in this weather. Catch you later.”
“Bye.”
Sandra picked up the laundry basket and only then noted absently that David had cleaned up after the pancake breakfast. How many men would have bothered? She stopped in the middle of the room and listened as the voices and laughter