The Women of Norton

“Audrey, you need to come home.”

“Amy? It’s three in the morning.”

Audrey sat up in bed and turned her lamp on. Still in a fog she sat there a moment listening to her younger sister’s heavy breathing on the other end of the line.

“Are you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m here. What happened?”

            “Mother had a car accident coming home from church.” Amy started to cry. “She isn’t going to make it. They said she has no brain activity.”

            The four-hour drive from Chicago to La Crosse gave Audrey Owens plenty of time to watch her life pass before her. All thirty-five years of it. Starting with her childhood in that small farming community where everyone knew your business. Kids couldn’t get away with anything in a small town like hers. Mothers were always looking out a kitchen or living room window. The moms who didn’t stay home, worked at the school, the local grocery store or drove carpool for one or more of the many extracurricular activities meant to keep kids busy and out of trouble. Just another set of eyes.

Even the darker truths couldn’t be kept hidden for long. Everyone knew how abusive her dad had been to Audrey’s mother, Corrine. It gave them a great topic of talk over coffee clutch when he had left her for a much younger woman two town’s over. When Amy, had become pregnant at seventeen, in a matter of a few days everyone had started talking. This had been long before Facebook. Everyone had their version of the story but not one of them actually had it right.

Audrey couldn’t leave that town fast enough. She promised to not be like the women who never left, working simple jobs and raising children. Audrey vowed she would be somebody. The night before she left for college, she drove to the outskirts of town to the sign which read, Welcome to Norton, Wisconsin, Home of the Fighting Eagles, Population 653. With a permanent marker, she scratched out the number 3 and above it wrote 2.

            An internship in Chicago at an international marketing firm eventually landed her a full-time position in human resources. Ardrey had worked hard to climb the ladder up and away from her past. She wore nice clothes, went to grand openings and knew the right people. Her two-bedroom condo on the eleventh floor had a stunning view of Lake Michigan. It had been really easy for Audrey Owens to forget where she had come from.

             Audrey parked her car at the hospital in La Crosse and sat there. She hadn’t been in a big hurry to step back into her past.

Amy had been at the front door in the hospital lobby waiting to pull her in. “You’re here.”

             “Yeah,” Audrey sighed. “I made it.”

            Her mother’s room had been dark when she entered. It took a moment to sort through the beeps and clicks of the equipment and the shadowy figures that hovered around the room. She had been caught off guard when she moved closer toward the bed and saw the bruises and cuts on her mother’s swollen face. Hot tears stung her cheeks. Audrey had a twinge of guilt; she hadn’t been home in years.

            A nurse turned towards Amy. “I’ll get everyone out and give you ladies some time with her.”

            Amy went first to their motionless mother. She gently picked up her hand and held it. Bewildered by the fragility of it. Audrey stood across from her sister, she softly stroked her mother’s head.

            Light sharply entered the dark room as the door opened. A man approached the bed and put on a clerical collar. He stood next to Amy after giving her a hug.

“Pastor Scott, this is my older sister Audrey.” She turned to Audrey. “He’s our new pastor at Saint Paul’s.”

Pastor Scott reached out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Audrey. Your sister mentions you often.”

“Thank you for coming.” She shook his hand.

After some small talk and reminiscing about the sister’s mother, Pastor Scott gave the Commendation of the Dying. A few minutes later, hospital staff came in one by one quietly. The sisters and the pastor stood back as one final exam of their mother had been given. The doctor came over and spoke to Audrey and Amy, explaining procedure and giving his condolences.

“Your mother had a living will. Her lawyer contacted me a few hours ago. There is nothing more we can do. The head injury was to damaging. I’m so sorry.”

The sisters sat with their mother for over an hour before the time had come. Audrey heard the shuffle of soft feet as they stepped around the bed. Hands were carefully turning of the machines. Everyone eventually left the two sisters alone with their mother as she silently drifted away.

“If you want to stay at mom’s house, I think it would be best.” Amy said. “I just don’t have the room at our place.”

“Actually, I had thought of staying here in La Crosse at a hotel.” Audrey saw the anguish in her sister. “But I can stay at moms.”

Back at her car Audrey leaned against the door. She stood and watched as the world around her kept moving on as if nothing had happened. A minute later, Amy walked up to her and stood next to Audrey. She pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to her sister.

Audrey laughed and accepted the cigarette. “I quit years ago.”

“We all did.” Amy offered her a lighter.

“What do we do now, Amy?”

“Well,” She took a drag of the cigarette and exhaled. “Mom had everything planned out right down to her obituary. She even picked out a photo for it.”

“No, she did?”

“Yup, it’s a picture of her from back in the eighties. She said it had been her favorite picture of her because it made her look like a movie star.”

“Not the one of her in her bikini at Lake Michigan?”

Amy laughed and stomped out her smoke. “I need to go. The kids will be getting home from school and I will have to tell them Grandma didn’t make it.” Tears started to well up in her eyes.

“Why did you leave Audrey? You never came home, except for my wedding and the birth of Rachel.”

“Amy, I don’t know what to say.” Audrey filled with guilt. “I hated this town. I couldn’t wait to leave. I saw how town gossip could spread and ruin people. The narrow minds and lack of tolerance for anything and I mean anything that might be different. There had been nothing to do in this town growing up. I wanted so much more.”

“Yeah, well I wanted more too. I had plans, remember? I wanted to go into nursing.”

“I’m sorry you got pregnant your senior year, Amy. Besides, I sent train tickets for both you and mom to come and visit.”

“I have a life, Audrey. A husband, four kids and the farm. I just can’t hop a train any time I feel like it and leave town. That’s so selfish of you.”

“Amy.”

“I need to go.” Amy stormed to her mini-van.

Audrey’s car climbed the large hill out of La Crosse and over the ridge. She had forgotten about the breath-taking views of the driftless region. She felt as if she had been on top of the world. The canopy of trees below her, with the summer haze floating on top. The unglaciated hills stood solid in the distance with their deep and narrow valleys snug between them. Audrey loved the hypnotic feel how her car danced through the turns and curves of the old road.

Forty-five minutes later, Audrey pulled into the drive of her mother’s house. The small bungalow sat snug between a tall oak and a full maple tree. It had the quintessential white picket fence and small flower beds throughout. She climbed the wooden steps. On the front porch, next to the door, had been a small flower box, she lifted it to find her mother still kept a house key there.

“Audrey Owens, is that really you?”

Audrey turned around, standing at the bottom of the porch steps an older woman held a tin foiled pan. Audrey thought she should know her but couldn’t place her name.

“It’s me, Marcia Dietz. I worked in the office at the high school.”

“Oh, Mrs. Dietz, of course. Won’t you come in?”  Audrey not shocked that news of her mother’s passing had already hit the town gossip chain.

“Oh, I can’t honey. Ed is waiting for me back at the house. We have euchre tonight at Bob and Linda’s.” She climbed the steps and handed Audrey the pan.

“Audrey, how long has it been?”

“I don’t know, to be honest.” Audrey smiled. “I came back for Amy’s wedding and right after Rachel was born.”

“Oh, geez, Rachel is fourteen now.” Mrs. Dietz said despondently.

The small-town guilt, it smacked Audrey right across the face.

“What do we have here?” Audrey quickly asked in hopes of changing the subject.

“Oh, I figured you might need something to eat so I brought a lasagna.” She pulled a tote bag off her shoulder. “Here, a bottle of Riesling, a small loaf of bread and a bag of salad.”

“Oh. You didn’t need to go to all that trouble. Thank you.”

“It’s what we do here.” Mrs. Dietz said with a hint of disdain.

“Yes, of course.” Audrey smiled. “Thank you again. It smells delicious.”

“I am very sorry about your mother.” Her eyes rolled up to the sky. “She was truly an amazing woman. I will miss working with her on the library fundraiser this summer. She will be dearly missed by all.”

“She never mentioned the fundraiser.”

After an awkward silence sat between them, Mrs. Dietz finally spoke. “Well, I must be off. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon enough.”

As Mrs. Dietz made her way down the steps a woman in her later years had walked up the sidewalk. In her hands she carried a small Tupperware container. “Hello, Marcia. How are you?”

“Mabel, what have you got there?”

“Oh, I made some bars, nothing fancy.” She opened the lid and the two women took a peek inside.

“Mabel, are those your world-famous butterscotch bars?”

Mabel Miller had been old when Audrey still lived in Norton. She couldn’t believe the woman had still been alive. Audrey remembered her butterscotch bars. She gave them out every year at Halloween; each bar wrapped up in cellophane.

Mrs. Dietz made her exit as Mable slowly climbed the porch steps. Her frail hand gripped the railing as her bent body swayed side to side with each step.

“Hello dear. So sorry about your mother. What a shock. Here.” She shoved the container into Audrey’s hands. Exasperated, she sat on the porch swing.

“I just made pies with your mother last week for a downtown development fundraiser.”

“Can I get you some water or something?” Audrey asked.

“Nope, I’m just going to sit here a spell and catch my breath.”

Audrey started to take the food in the house when a dark blue mini-van pulled up to the curb. A young boy hopped out and slammed the door. Quickly, he slid the back door open and pulled out a box. With a bit of struggle, he closed the door and started towards the porch. The window rolled down and a woman around Audrey’s age yelled, “Sorry Audrey, I can’t stay. Michael has t-ball in ten minutes.”

“Lori?”

“Yes, Lori Schmitz, well, Miller now.” She laughed. “Mabel, do you want a ride home?”

“No, I’ll make it back just fine.”

The boy, who Audrey had guessed to be Michael, handed her the box. “Here you go.” He said and jumped off the porch.

“Sorry about your mom, Audrey.” She put her hand to her chest. “What a treasure.”

The boy climbed back in the front seat and the mini-van let out a polite beep as it quickly pulled away from the curb.

“She is such a busy woman. She was elected to the school board this year. Don’t know how she does it with all those kids.” Mable said.

“How many does she have?”

“She is due with baby number five in about a month.”

“Five?”

“Yeah, she is such a good girl.”

Lori Schmitz had been anything but a good girl back in school. She had been a year ahead of Audrey. She was the girl in school who arm wrestled the boys, drove a dirt bike, smoked cigarettes behind the school and always had one of her older brothers buy beer for the usual weekend bonfire in someone’s back yard. Lori had been known to fight with other girls who mocked her tomboy ways. Audrey had been fearful of her growing up. Now she had been surprised to see her bringing food and driving a mini-van with kids.

“Well, I suppose. I should be on my way, dear. You need to get settled anyhow.” Mable heaved herself up and out of the swing. She waddled down the porch and slowly made her way down the sidewalk. Audrey watched as she turned the corner and disappeared.

Audrey went into the house. The front room of the bungalow had changed drastically since she last visited. What once had been cheap paneled walls with a dark fake wood motif had been replaced with bright white walls of sheet-rock. A light blue floorboard and decorative molding had been added. She noticed the new furniture as well.

The kitchen, had not changed much. The large kitchen sink looked out over the backyard. The Formica table that Audrey remembered from her childhood still sat against the wall with its plastic napkin holder and two small plastic salt and pepper shakers. The only change had been the dull yellow walls from her childhood were now the same paint and molding as the living room. Bright curtains with large red flowers bordered all the windows.

Audrey opened the wine and sat at the small kitchen table thinking about the women, the food they brought, and their fondness for her mother. Audrey talked to her mom every other week but she never mentioned pies or fundraisers. Her mother worked at the post office, attended church every Sunday but she hardly ever revealed what she did on her spare time. Audrey just assumed she went out once in a while. Her mom did mention seeing a movie the last time she had talked with her.

The back door opened.

“Hey.” It had been Amy. “I just had a few minutes before Dewy gets home. I wanted to make sure you were settled.”

“Yeah, I’m ok.” Audrey said. “Wow, did mom do a remake of the house or what?”

“Yeah, about three years ago.”

“It looks great.”

“I wanted to apologize for earlier today at the hospital. I shouldn’t have said those things.”

“No, you don’t need to apologize. It’s me that needs to apologize. My god Amy, I’ve been a horrible sister.”

Audrey told her sister about her visitors and the food they had brought. She also said she didn’t even know the people who lived in her high-rise. She doubted anyone would even care to bring her food in a time of need.

A creaking of the back door caused the sisters to turn.

“Is this Jeffrey? Oh, my goodness you have gotten so big.”

A small boy ran in and jumped into the arms of his mother. “This is Jeffrey.” Amy kissed his cheek. “I thought I told you to wait in the car.”

“Hi Jeffrey, I’m your Aunt Audrey. How old are you?”

The little boy buried his face into the center of his mother’s chest. His tiny hand protruded out. With a small struggle he put three fingers, then one more up and twisted his hand. Four tiny fingers wiggled like fresh worms from the earth.

“Do you want a cookie?” Audrey opened the container from Mable.

He looked from the cookies to his mother.

“Go ahead and pick one. I’ll get you a glass of milk and you can sit in the living room and watch some television for a bit.” Amy lets him down.

“One of the perks of living in a small town, everyone has your back in a time of need. Whether they like you or not. The downside is everyone knows your business.”

“I hated this town so much when we were kids. You couldn’t do anything without half the town knowing it.”

“Yeah, remember the time we snuck out and toilet papered Mr. Hammond’s house?”

“Yes! And Mandy Brown ratted us out.”

“She was such a goody-two-shoes.” Amy laughed.

“What ever happened to Mandy?”

“Oh, she’s still here. She ended up marrying Cole Dunbar. They have a small dairy just outside of town on the ridge. She works part-time at the bank and drives the kid’s school bus too.”

“I should have come back sooner and more often. I feel like a stranger in mom’s house. The house we grew up in. Everyone keeps talking about how great she was and how she will be missed. I feel as if I have missed out on something.”

“You have your life in Chicago. Everyone here knows you are a busy woman and, they always ask about you.”

“I can’t believe how quiet it is. Just birds, kids and the occasional car driving by.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty slow here compared to the big city. Not to mention we don’t have all the noise.”

A horn blared from the back of the house. Audrey looked out the kitchen window over the sink. A pick-up truck had parked in the back alley behind Amy’s van. The angry horn blared again.

Amy looked out the window. “Speaking of noise, I need to go.” Amy said. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Nine?”

“Yeah, see you then.”

Audrey watched as her sister and little nephew walked back through the yard and then to the truck. The man inside looked upset. Audrey couldn’t hear exactly what had been spoken but the words were upsetting enough that her sister hung her head as she climbed in her van.

“Dewy.” Audrey said aloud.

Andrew Schultz, Dewy, grew up on his family’s prominent dairy farm. He had been the captain of both the football team and the basketball team. Popular, smart and good looking, he started dating Amy when he had been a senior in high school and she a junior.

Dewy had been offered quite a pick of football scholarships in the Midwest. His first pick had been a small college in western Michigan. When Amy announced her pregnancy two weeks before he left for training camp, Dewy promised her he would do the right thing by her and their unborn child. Four weeks later, Dewy had found himself back at home recovering from a torn ACL injury and his football career over. His marriage to Amy had been a warm day in January. A few months after, their daughter Rachel had been born.

Audrey could feel her hunger sinking in. She looked in the glass dish that Lori had brought and found a tuna and noodle mixture with peas. Shredded cheddar cheese had been sprinkled on top. She put the lid back on and popped it in the oven. While it cooked, she fixed a salad with what Mrs. Dietz had brought and a few extra ingredients from her mother’s crisper. She grabbed the large bottle of ranch dressing from the door.

Audrey thought to herself at how long it had been since she ate a real home cooked meal. She had grown accustomed to eating  mostly a diet of take-out. The only cooking Audrey did had been in a microwave. She never drank Riesling. A bold red had been her poison. What is it with Wisconsin people and their Riesling? She thought.

After her supper, Audrey climbed the stairs to the second floor. Upstairs had been where the girls’ rooms were when they were kids. Two bedrooms on opposite ends of the bungalow with a half bath in the middle. Audrey climbed into her old bed and fell asleep without changing into her night clothes.

Audrey woke with a start and unfamiliarity. She had slept soundly the whole night through. She quickly changed and went downstairs.

She found some instant oatmeal in the pantry and with five minutes to spare, Audrey dashed out the door. The drive to the church took less than two minutes.

Saint Paul’s Lutheran Church sat on a hill with a watchful eye on the village below. The brick walls towered at the top of the narrow and steep cement steps. The steeple reached for the heavens and just as she opened the old creaky wood door the bells rang out, announcing the nine o’clock hour.

Audrey stopped in astonishment. The morning light streamed through the old stained-glass windows and the quiet dust particles floated through the chapel. The smell of old wood and fresh furniture polish smelled exactly the same as when she was a kid.

It had been the warm aroma wafting up from the basement stairs that had caught Audrey’s attention. The dense smells of creamed soups and strong coffee picked Audrey up and transferred her back in time to her great-grandmothers funeral when she had been six or seven years old. After the service the mourners walked solemnly single file into the church hall. Tables were laid out with trays and dishes of food. There were large trays of cheeses and meats next to which were large bowls of various buns and breads. Three glass bowls of mustard, ketchup and mayonnaise with little spoons sat next. After the meat and cheese, came the large bowl of potato chips and a bowl of onion dip. A relish tray of carrots, celery, radishes, sweet pickles, cherry tomatoes and a dish of ranch had been placed in the middle.

Next came the ample variety of hot dishes. Most were sharing common ingredients of cream of mushroom soup, cream of celery soup, cottage cheese or a combination. The soups and cheese glued together noodles, rice, or vegetables. Some with chopped ham, others had chicken. There were pans of scalloped potatoes, Au Gratin potatoes, potatoes with diced ham and cheddar cheese, all just waiting to be scooped out on a plate. Every dish had steam that rose from a covering of crushed potato chips or crispy onions.

Audrey’s eyes widened at the sight of red, green and orange brightly colored squares of Jell-O salad with a thick layer of whipped cream. On the last table sat a large coffee urn with weak and over warmed coffee. Two large punch bowls, one with a ring of frozen sherbet, one without. There were plenty of gooey bars to choose from and sheet cake. The women of Parish Life stood behind the table every few feet. They picked up the spills and replenished the dishes before they emptied.

“Mommy, where did all this food come from?” Audrey had asked.

“The nice ladies from town.” She whispered back.

 Audrey left her fond memory when she heard the low murmuring of women’s voices. She walked down the steps into the basement. A large room with tables and chairs stood before her. Nothing had changed. Green polka-dot curtains covered the windows that lined both walls. The felt board from her days at preschool still hung on the wall in the children’s play corner. A large box of broken and mismatched toys sat next to a rocking chair. The carpet squares for sitting on had been piled up in the corner. The small table for little people still had the big shoebox full of crayons and a pile of coloring books placed in the center.

The kitchen held court at the far end of the room. A large pass-through window into the kitchen looked like a welcoming smile. Audrey could see the women busy in the kitchen.

“Hi, Amy is meeting me here. We were to go over the menu for my mother’s funeral.”

A large woman with grey hair got up from her seat at the kitchen table where four other women sat. She walked over to Audrey holding out her arms for a hug. “Oh, you poor thing. I am so sorry about your mother.”

Audrey recognized her voice and then she remembered the woman who had hugged her as her fifth-grade teacher, Mrs. Smith.

“Thank you, Mrs. Smith.”

“Oh, just call me Marjorie.” She pulled out a chair from the table. “Here, sit. Can I get you some coffee?”

“Oh, yes, thanks. That would be nice.”

“Cream? Sugar?”

“No, just black.”

“Your sister called me this morning; she is running a bit late.” Another woman who looked to be in her eighties said. “I told her not to worry. Her big sister is fully capable to make a luncheon menu. I’m Jenny Miller, Dewy is my grandson.”

Audrey remembered her now from her sister’s wedding.

Jenny introduced the women of Parish Life who sat around the kitchen table. Opal Schmitz, her sister Shirley Brooks, and Rosalie Carter. Audrey had remembered Barbara Owens, a distant relation on her father’s side. 

“Now, here is the book of tried-and-true recipes we use for luncheons. We already started a few pans of potatoes, hope that is alright.” Marjorie placed a large three ring binder down in front of Audrey.

“We took the liberty to start the potatoes with ham and cheese. They were your mother’s favorite.” Opal explained. “Figured we better serve those.”

“Oh my, do they ever go fast.” Jenny said nodding her head. “You never have any leftovers of those.”

“We try to have everything made so all we need to do is warm it up in the ovens the morning of the service.” Barbara added.

“We are a little shorthanded these days. What with all the young kids moving out to the bigger cities.”

“Or they quit going to church.” Snapped Shirley.

All the women sighed in agreement.

“Well, I think Audrey would love to roll up her sleeves and help out? Wouldn’t you sis?” Amy said as she came in the kitchen. “Sorry I’m late. The babysitter needed to run an errand before getting to my place.”

“Um, sure. I don’t really know how to cook much of this stuff.” Audrey said while she flipped through the binder.

The women stilled and gave a hard look at Audrey. After a long moment Jenny spoke up. “What do you cook?”

“Well.” Audrey hesitated.

“Oh, I bet she eats all those fancy meals we see on that cooking show.” Opal said.

“Oh, hogwash. That’s not what you eat at a funeral. You need the foods that get deep down into your sad soul and comfort you. Lift you up.” Shirley rumbled.

Opal leaned over to Marjorie and in a loud whisper said, “Just look at her. She is skinny as a bean pole. I bet she just eats that food that has no gluten, wheat, dairy, or flavor.” She let out a snort.

“Well, if she can read, she can cook.” Shirley chimed in.

“Ladies, we are not here to pass judgment today.” Marjorie remarked.

“But she is really skinny.” Opal got up from her chair and pulled out a steaming pan of scalloped potatoes and ham. She heaped a large spoonful into a bowl and handed it to Audrey. “Eat this, you’re going to need your strength if you are to make food all day.”

Marjorie whispered to Audrey. “They don’t mean any harm. It’s just their way of saying they care.”

As the day went on more women from Norton had stopped by to offer condolences and praise for Corrine. They offered to take home the preferred recipes to cook from their homes. Mrs. Parker, whose husband owned the local grocery store, stopped by with the promise of bringing four deli trays over the morning of the service. Shortly later, Marion Riddle, who teaches math at the junior high stopped by. She dropped off five bags of dinner rolls. Edith Cook came in with a large foiled pan of chocolate brownies for the viewing the night before the funeral.

“How many people do you think are coming to the service?” Audrey asked.

“Why, honey, practically the whole town and then your mother’s family from Green Valley.” Marjorie said and thought a bit more. “My guess? A couple hundred.”

“I didn’t know mom knew so many people.” Audrey exclaimed.

“Well, she was very active in the community.”

Audrey listened as the women talked about her mother. Corrine organized a winter coat drive every year for the kids in the area. She held a position on the library board, downtown development committee, Art in the Park and she spearheaded a program to drive the seniors to doctor appointments. Those were just a few Corrine been involved with over the years.

“Your mother was very dedicated to our community.” Margorie said.

Audrey realized her mother hadn’t been the only woman in Norton dedicated, most of the women in Norton were. The women worked fiercely to keep their community from disappearing off the map like so many other small towns in Wisconsin had.

Mrs. Dietz used her own money to buy beautiful hanging baskets of flowers every year to display from all the light post on Main Street. Opal started flowers from seed every winter in her basement to disperse throughout the park and local businesses to beautify downtown. She always had extras to give away for whoever wanted to spruce up their yard.

The women helped at voting time by staffing the elections. They sat on library boards, school boards, church boards and few of them even had been elected to sit on local government boards.

A group of them had put together a carnival every year for the past ten years in the town park. The money raised went to the support the local library. The women from the Methodist Church had free lunches during the summer for the kids who might not have had a hot meal that day.

It had been the women who organized backpack donations for the kids every fall. Every home basketball, football and wrestling match a group of moms baked treats to sell for funds for the all-school dance each year. They did it all.

Corrine Mary Owens looked like a sleeping beauty laying in her casket the night before her funeral. More than one hundred and fifty family members, friends, and people from the community came for her viewing. Her two daughters stood stoic by their mother’s casket as they greeted the well-wishers.

After the viewing had ended, some of the family and close personal friends went to the town bar for an informal dinner in the back room. Audrey sat next to Amy and when their beers had been served Audrey leaned into her sister.

“Amy, why was Dewy so upset the other day when he came to the house? Is everything okay between the two of you?”

“We had to let our hired help go recently. Milk prices are so low, we just couldn’t afford to pay him.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s part of the job. Not to mention we need a new hay baler and we are late on a few bills.”

Amy continued. “Prices go up and prices come down. The farmer has no control over that.”

“Are you worried you might lose the farm?”

“Everyday.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Well, Dewy is looking into going organic. They tend to get more for their milk. Another option, selling the dairy cows and starting over with beef cows. Or,” Amy hesitated. “We auction everything off, pay the bank and whatever is left over, which probably won’t be much, start over with jobs off the farm.”

“Is there anything I do to help?”

“Do you have an extra hundred-thousand lying around?”

Saint Paul’s had been packed to the brim on the day of the funeral. The procession to the cemetery took almost thirty minutes to drive the one mile, park their cars and walk to Corrine’s final resting place. When the last hug had been given and well-wishers had left, the two sisters said their final good-bye to their mother and quietly went back to the church.

Audrey made her way to the basement for the luncheon. The room had been humid from all the people. She stood there looking over the mass of people. Some were in line getting food, others were already sitting at a table talking with the people sitting next to them. Still others mingled in small circles, coffee cups in hand. There had been moments of polite laughter and little kids running about. Audrey listened as tales were being told and news had been shared. Something inside of her had changed.

“Are you going to get something to eat?” Amy came up beside her sister. “These potatoes and ham are really good. So is the broccoli and rice dish.”

“Amy?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I made a mistake all those years ago.”

“How so?”

“Can you stop by the house tomorrow?” Audrey asked.

“Sure. Will ten work?”

“That’ll work.”

Audrey realized that being somebody didn’t necessarily have to mean living in a big city with a powerful job. She learned from spending time talking with the women of Norton that many of them had left to go to college. She also learned; they chose to come back. It had been a small town with a big heart.

The women of Norton had struggles like everyone else, but they weren’t struggling alone. They had each other even if they didn’t always see eye to eye. When someone fell short, they were there to her pick up. The same women she had thought all those years ago were simple minded and going nowhere were the backbone to this town running properly. They held no airs; if it needed to be done, they figured out a way to do it. Audrey wanted to be a part of that.

The next morning as promised, Amy came over to the house at ten. Audrey made coffee and she explained how she had it all wrong. She thought her life in Chicago with her job and living large lifestyle had fulfilled her when in fact it had the opposite effect. She didn’t realize until she came home how alone she really had been. Her life had become a conveyor belt of the same routine that only revolved around making it big. Audrey did make it big, but at what cost. She wasn’t married. Her only friends were actually colleagues from the office. Besides sharing a coffee and office gossip in the breakroom she might go out for a drink after work. After a glass of wine, they went home to their families. Audrey went home to her empty condo.

“I think I might be homesick.” Audrey explained. “Everything I had been looking for all those years ago, has been here all along.”

She went on to say she would like to move back home. She had thought about it and between her savings and the sale of her condo she would have plenty of money to buy out Amy’s half of their mother’s house.

“I can live here and you can use the money to help out with the farm. Or,” She paused. “You can use it towards nursing school.”

“Audrey, I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. Besides, there are too many details to still figure out.”

Amy sat for a moment. “What about your job?”

“I’ll get a job here. I’ll figure it out.”

The sisters sat in silence and sipped their coffees when Audrey finally spoke.

“I am willing to do whatever it takes to be a woman of Norton.”