A Year on Ladybug Farm - Donna Ball [29]
The first item to be checked off Lindsay’s list had been “telephone service.” As it turned out, it had been connected on time and as promised by the telephone company, but, for reasons unfathomable to anyone, all the telephone wiring inside the house had been disconnected and wound into a neat coil that hung on a nail inside the cellar door. When Cici had made that discovery a mere two days previously, it had taken less than an hour to reconnect the wiring to the telephone box, thread it back through holes in the walls and floors, and connect it to the one land line phone they had had the presence of mind to bring with them.
After being deprived of communication with the outside world for so long, they were like starving women at a feast. They called Paul and Derrick, who laughed at their stories about communication woes in the country and promised to visit soon, but both of them sounded rushed and busy. They called friends and neighbors, most of whom were at work. Cici called Lori, who was in a hurry but said she would call her right back.
That was when they all realized that no one had remembered to ask the telephone company what their new telephone number was.
Lori said, “So you have a phone, but no actual phone number?”
“Directory assistance will look it up for you,” Cici replied impatiently. “The important thing is, you can call any time! Gosh, I’ve missed you! It seems like forever since I heard your voice.”
“It was only a couple of weeks ago.”
“When are you coming to see us, sweetie?”
“Mom, I was just home.”
“I’ll have you know that was last year, and it wasn’t to this home.”
“Well, that’s just it, isn’t it?” replied Lori blithely. “That’s not exactly my home. It’s yours.”
Cici opened her mouth to answer, but didn’t know what to say.
“Mom, I’ve got to get to class. Was there anything else?”
“No,” Cici said in a moment. “I just wanted to check in. And don’t forget you promised to fly back here for your birthday.”
A hesitation, and Cici compressed her lips.
“About that . . .” Lori had the grace to sound abashed. “I might have to change the plans . . . maybe we can talk later?”
Cici set her teeth and began to count to ten.
“Mom? You there?”
She forced a smile that she hoped softened her voice, although it hurt every muscle in her face. “Sure, sweetie. I know how hectic college life is. You just let me know.”
“Thanks, Mom. I love you.”
“Love you, too, baby.”
Cici replaced the receiver with firm and careful deliberation. Bridget glanced up from her diligent search through the telephone directory in the hope that their telephone number might be listed there.
“Everything okay?”
“Five thousand four hundred and eighty-three,” Cici said without turning. “That’s how many lunch boxes I packed. Sixty-eight thousand, nine hundred and eight Flintstones vitamins, seven hundred fifty soccer practices, sixty-two crepe paper costumes . . .” She turned, and made a sweeping gesture toward the telephone before she stalked away. “The telephone,” she declared, “is yours.”
Bridget called Kevin at work. “You should have seen the place when we got here,” she reported happily. “The shingles were falling off, there was a dump truck load of fallen branches in the yard, and it took two days to get through the first layer of dust! Cici says we’re going to have to replace the wiring before we can install the central heat and air, and we haven’t even started on the barns and the landscaping.