Page 74 of Beyond Montana's Sky
Oh, the irony of the wordhome. If asked a year ago, Ben would have firmly stated Boston was his home. Now, he knew better.Perhaps I’m fated to spend my life with one foot in Sweetwater Springs and one in Boston—straddling East and West.
Once inside the house, Ben shucked his outerwear and, with a grin, handed everything to Deak. “Is my mother home?”
“I believe Mrs. Grayson is in her room.”
With a nod of thanks, Ben bounded past the old man and took the stairs two at a time.
Her door was open, and he entered to find his mother staring into the fire, a letter in her lap. He made the mistake of tiredly plopping down in the chair opposite her.
Mama eyed his sprawling limbs.
Only his mother had the power to communicate her disapproval in one simple arch of an eyebrow. He hastily sat up straight.
She nodded, smiled, and set her teacup on the saucer. “The sugar cookies are still warm. You can use my teacup or go fetch your own. No sense making Mary trudge up here to find out what we need, go down for another teacup, and then come back up again.”
Not wanting to go down four flights of stairs to the kitchen, Ben lifted the cozy from the pot and poured more tea into his mother’s teacup. Setting down the pot, he selected a cookie and took a reasonable bite, not the big one he wanted. Such “monkey behavior” would bring on another arch of his mother’s eyebrow, and one time in a day was enough.
With a secretive smile, she held out the letter. “From your Aunt Maggie.”
Curious, he took the letter and read the first part, smiling at the mention of the soldiers and images of family members. “I had fun making those ornaments.”Well, as much fun as could be had with Mrs. Graves.“Maybe I can make some with my cousins.”
“I think the girls would love doing that activity with you.”
Ben made a mental note about the ornaments making nice Christmas gifts for family members. “I think we should leave them in Sweetwater Springs for the tree there. Hopefully, Charlotte won’t try to eat them.”
Picking up the letter, Ben kept reading. He went over the last few paragraphs several times not entirely sure of the meaning. He looked up in inquiry.
“You’re going to have another cousin.”
Ben sat still for a moment, stunned. Slowly, a smile spread across is face. As he pictured the Christmas tree in the parlor, Charlotte on her feet, maybe walking, another baby cousin on the way, a powerful longing built in him.
“Mama, I want to go home this summer.” He hadn’t intended to mention his plan so soon, but the words slipped out.
A distressed look crossed his mother’s face. “Oh, darling, I know you’re homesick for Sweetwater Springs. Sometimes I am, too. But you have a business to learn. Your grandfather depends on you.”
“Iamlearning. I promise. But I can take a few months away. You’ve heard me mention Mr. Chase, who’s helping train me.”
She nodded.
He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “Mr. Chase is a smart man. He knows the business maybe even better than Grandfather. But he’s really quiet. Self-effacing, even, so he’s overlooked. I think Mr. Chase would be quite capable of running Grayson Enterprises if I weren’t there. For that matter, if Grandfather wasn’t there.”
She toyed with the envelope in her lap. “I’ve observed your grandfather isn’t treating you like a boy anymore. I think you should talk to him—man-to-man—and present your case for giving Mr. Chase more managerial responsibility.”
“Do you think Grandfather will listen?” Ben had his doubts.
“He might need a while to think about your suggestion and observe Mr. Chase. Perhaps slowly giving the man more responsibility and seeing how he handles the work.”
His mother’s suggestions increased Ben’s confidence. “I’ll present Grandfather with those possibilities, too.”
“But even so—” his mother shook her head. “I don’t see how we can leave your family. They need us.”
He noted how she saidyourfamily. “I’m hoping everyone will be better by summer.”
She eyed him skeptically. “Were you better a year after your father died?”
Ben didn’t even have to think back to that dark time to know the answer. “I was angry.” He inhaled and exhaled a long breath. “I might have been better, though, if I’d made different choices. Didn’t hang out with Arlie and set the fires. Made friends with the twins instead of persecuting them. When it comes down to it…a lot of my unhappiness was my own fault.”
“And mine. Webothcould have made wiser choices. If we’d been nicer to others, accepted the friendships that were there for the asking, early on, we would have created a more satisfying life—” she smiled “—in what seemed like exile but truly wasn’t.”
