Chapter Thirty-Five
Max stood on the porch with Malee and Ben, who proudly held a box of donuts. Max knocked on the wooden door. A moment later, Mrs. Larsen answered. She bent and hugged Ben, who held the box out to her.
“We brought you donuts, Miz Larsen.”
“You did? Why thank you! Aren’t you sweet? Did you help pick them out?”
He nodded.
She handed him back the box. “Well, go put them on the table, and I’ll get us all some plates.”
He ran off to do her bidding, yelling, “I’ll get them down. I know where they are!”
Max watched as Ben ran through the small house to the kitchen, set the box down on the mint green Formica table, and pulled a chair across the linoleum floor to the cabinet. He climbed up and opened an upper cupboard.
“I’m so glad you’re taking care of him,” the older woman said, turning back to Max. “Come in, please.”
Max and Malee stepped inside. He signed as he said, “Mrs. Larsen, this is my wife, Malee. She’s deaf, so I’ll have to translate for you, but she can speak.”
“How do you do?” Malee said, extending her hand.
“I’m so pleased to meet you,” Mrs. Larsen replied. She looked to Max. “I’m glad you told me what happened. And I’m so happy you stepped in. How was Ben last night?”
“He was fine, but he was worried about you.”
“That dear boy.”
Max put his arm around Malee. “We have something we’d like to talk to you about.”
Mrs. Larsen nodded. “Well let’s go sit at the table, and I’ll make a pot of coffee.”
They moved to the kitchen, and Ben served them all donuts like he was a waiter. They laughed as he took such pride in asking them which kind they wanted, and carrying the plates to them.
Mrs. Larsen soon carried mugs of coffee over. “Ben, there’s some milk in the refrigerator. Can you pour yourself a glass?”
“Yes.”
“Ben, you say, ‘yes, ma’am’, remember?” Max instructed.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Mrs. Larsen beamed. “Why, such manners! I’m so proud of you, Ben.”
He opened the refrigerator and got out a half-gallon carton.
“Be careful not to spill,” Mrs. Larsen reminded him.
“I will.”
When he was seated at the table and they were halfway through their donuts, Max took a sip of coffee and set his mug down. “Mrs. Larsen, Malee and I have a proposition for you.”
“A proposition? What kind?”
“Ben is going to be staying with us for a while, and we sure could use some help taking care of him while we are both at work. We were wondering if you’d be interested in the job.”
“I don’t mind watching little Ben at all. You don’t have to pay me.”
“You don’t understand. We want to offer you room and board. We’d like to move you out to the farmhouse. It’s a big house with plenty of space. You’d have your own room. And in exchange, you could help take care of Ben.”
“But I already have this place.”
Max nodded. “I know. I was thinking maybe you could sell this house or rent it out for an added income.”
Mrs. Larsen toyed nervously with the handle of her coffee mug. “Well, I don’t know.”
“Ben would love for you to come,” Max insisted.
“Pleeease!” Ben begged. “I don’t want you to be lonely here all by yourself without me.”
Mrs. Larsen smiled at the boy and reached over and patted his cheek. “I would miss you, Ben, but I don’t know. Moving… that’s a big step.”
“Would you come out to the farm to at least see the place?”
Ben sat on his chair, swinging his feet back and forth. “Yeah, you have to come see my new room! Please!”
“Well, I suppose I could do that.”
Max reached across the table and covered her frail hand with his. “He needs you, Mrs. Larsen. I’m not sure this will work without you there.”
She nodded and looked around her aging, dilapidated home. “I suppose a change would be nice.”
Max and Malee both grinned at each other, and Max said, “I think that’s a yes, Ben.”
Ben put his fists in the air and screamed, “Yay!”
***
As spring rolled into summer, they all settled into a routine. Mrs. Larsen had a room on the first floor that made it easier for her not to have to climb the stairs too often. She took over a majority of the cooking, something she was good at, to the great appreciation of everyone.
She soon had the home running like a well-oiled machine. Ben would come home from school on the bus each afternoon, and they would sit at the kitchen table having milk and cookies. Then Ben would sit and do any homework he had.
Max had found a Grad student from the local university to rent out her home for the summer. That gave them enough time to see if this arrangement was going to work out for all of them.
So far, it was working out great. Ben was happier than Max had ever seen him. Once in a while he’d ask about his father. The man had even come by to the farm one Sunday. Ben had been happy to see him, but also almost leery that he was there to take him away.
They’d invited him to dinner. He’d made the best of it, struggling through the meal and attempting small talk, but by dessert, Max could see he was itching for a drink. In the end, he’d asked Max for money.
Max was leery of setting a precedent of becoming a weekly handout, but he gave him a twenty, and Liam gave him a lift back into town.
Ben seemed a little sad to see him go, and Max felt compelled to offer the weekly standing invitation to Sunday dinner. He’d nodded, saying he’d like that, but had only been back once, on Ben’s birthday.
After that, Ben didn’t talk about him much. It seemed he’d adjusted well to his new surroundings, thriving even. With the fresh air and regular meals, he’d already grown an inch, and Max and Malee planned to take him shopping for new clothes.
In the evenings, they’d rock on chairs on the front porch or around a bonfire in the backyard. If Rory was around, he’d play his guitar, and they’d all sing and toast marshmallows.
Life was good.