Plans over Lunch

Laura Dell set the penguin bobblehead in the box with the few throw pillows she had. While she didn’t have plans to go home to Siloam, her lease was up in a few weeks, and it was time to start packing up. Herbert would be at the museum now, writing in his notebook. She’d seen him every day this week; after his morning meditation with Sue, they ate lunch together. Today she was making a big country-style lunch for them: chicken and dumplings were simmering on the stove, and she had a strawberry salad – Maw Maw Fords’ special dessert – chilling in the fridge. He would be here in just a few minutes.

John William wanted her to come home. “I’m glad you gave that awful boss of yours the four-one-one,” he’d said when she talked to him last night. “Take these few weeks off and then come on back. I bet there’s a museum in Mobile that could use your awesome skills as a knowledgeable, experienced whatever-you-are.”

“I’m a geologist,” she had replied, laughing a little. John William always made her feel better.

“Speaking of, how’s Herb?”

“He’s…” Laura Dell wasn’t exactly sure what to tell him. She wasn’t exactly sure how Herb (ert, she thought, a little annoyed) was feeling. He said he was fine, that he felt fine, et cetera ad infinitum, but she felt pretty sure he was lying. “I guess he’s as well as can be expected. He’s not in the hospital any more, but the nurse told me that it wasn’t because he was better – it was because he was terminal.”

John William was quiet for a minute. “I know this is tough for you. I wish I could do something that would make it better, solve this problem for you. But this isn’t like taking care of Teddy Feazell that time he was following you everywhere. This is a grown-up problem, and you and I both know I’m never really gonna grow up.” He chuckled a little at his joke, then sighed. “Look. If you need me you know I’ll be there as quick as I can get there, but I want you to think about what I said. Siloam maybe could use a geogolist.” He’d hung up then, and Laura Dell had chuckled a little at his goofy (and intended) mispronunciation.

Laura Dell looked back own at the penguin. John William knew her so well. They’d grown up much closer than most brother-sister pairs; perhaps it was the environment they shared that had formed that intense bond, or maybe it was just that John William wasn’t like most big brothers. He’d never teased her like other big brothers.

A knock on her door interrupted her reverie. She stood up and peeked through her peephole. No surprises – it was Herbert, leaning heavily on his cane. She opened the door and he stood right up, putting as little weight as possible on the cane. Her suspicions were confirmed – he was lying to her. “Hello, Herbert,” she said, smiling as she let him through. “How is Sue today?”

“She’s well, with the exception of that hand that fell off. Feinman wasn’t exactly forthcoming as to how she lost it. The Board is very upset, but they don’t believe the damage is very serious or detrimental.” He settled into a chair at her kitchen table – really it was little more than a glorified end table – and leaned his cane against the wall behind him. She moved to the stove to stir the chicken and dumplings. “The museum is somewhat quieter without the bird.” Laura smiled.

“Well, I’ve got something to tell you about that,” she said, coming to sit with him. “I talked to Mr. Dresden, the man who has the sparrow. He’s going to be okay, and Mr. Dresden is bringing him to me to keep him while he mends.”

“That’s good news, Miss Dell,” he said softly. She looked him over.

“Herbert, please. Be frank with me. How are you feeling?” She reached her hand out to touch his wrinkly wrist. “I’m very worried about you.”

“I know. I wanted to speak with you about all this today, actually, if you’re ready. I know you’re young, and death seems such a horrible thing to you, but you must understand that I truly meant what I said about having lived a long, full life. I’m 76 years old, Laura Dell. I’ve had my Malynne, I’ve done some awesome things, as you well know. I’ve had a wonderful time getting to know you, as well,” he said, winking at her. “I’d like to get to know your cooking skills,” he added. She squawked a little and hopped up to fix two bowls of chicken and dumplings.

“Sorry about that, Herbert,” she said, setting the two bowls on the table, and handing him a spoon. He chortled.

“It’s okay. I was distracting you from your southern hostess habits. Where was I?” He scooped up a dumpling. “Mmm. Ah, yes. Well, I’ve been doing quite a lot of thinking. Truly, ever since I received my diagnosis, but more so since you arrived.” Laura Dell looked down and stirred her own soup. “My notebooks are in my house. If … I suppose I should say when … something happens to me, I want you to go into my house and get them. They’re in the office, right off the living room.” He took another bite. How is he so calm about this? Laura asked herself. “I want you to read them. I understand that it may be hard, but I want you to read them as soon as you get them, and I want you to get them before my funeral. There are some important things in them. There’s a lot of unimportant stuff, too, but the unimportant is a part of the journey to the important.” He set down his spoon and fished into a pocket in his sportscoat. “Here’s the key to my house.” He slid a jagged brass key across the table. Laura Dell picked it up, fighting back tears. “Also,” he added, using a much lighter tone, “there’s a rather small kitten. I found it in the street and took it in when I got out of the hospital. Please be sure he is taken care of.”

Looking – reaching, really – for a distraction, Laura Dell said, “You have a kitten now?”

“Yep,” he said. “I wanted to name him Sue, but then I found out he was not a she as I’d originally thought. I have yet to find a good male name.”

“You could always just name him Sue anyway, and pay homage to both Sue the Dino and Johnny Cash,” Laura Dell joked a little. Herbert laughed heartily.

“You know something, Miss Laura Dell? That’s very true. That Johnny Cash was a wild character; it’s kind of fitting. That rascally tom kitten is wild too. Keeps hiding under beds and chairs and in closets and jumping out on my pants leg. Perhaps I’ll do that.” He chuckled again, then finished his chicken and dumplings. “Ah. I don’t believe I’ve had anything so good in a long time.”

“Well, there’s strawberry salad chilled in the fridge as well, for dessert. It’s surely not as good as my grandmother’s, but it’s her recipe, and hers is always a Christmas hit.” She rose and pulled it out of her tiny fridge.

“Oh, no, Laura Dell, thank you – although if you’ll be so kind as to fix me up a bowl of soup and some strawberry salad I’ll take it with me on home. I’d just as soon have another bowl of those dumplings for dinner than anything else.” She nodded and made up the doggy bag.

“Where do you live?” she asked, realizing that she had no idea as she snapped the lid on the Tupperware divided plate. She handed it to him as he scrawled something on a scrap of paper.

“Here’s my address. I assume you know how to Map Quest an address?” He winked again as he gathered up the Tupperware and his cane and got ready to leave. “You might try it tomorrow, around this same time, if you’d like. I would like to return the delicious favor.” He stepped out into the wind and walked down the street. Laura Dell watched him, wondering if she would get to enjoy his company tomorrow.