Revival of the Big, White, House

Reunion in the Big, White House

Lindsey’s mother often said, “You can never go back. Even if you do, things will never be the same. But when Val called to say she was returning to Texas for a week, the girls decided to try. Thus began the migration to the big, white house. For Val it was a 2:40 minute flight through the clouds. For Lindsey, it was a 2:30 drive on interstate 10.

Things had changed since Lindsey lived in the big, white house. Her stay with her grandparents until summer had continued throughout the summer and now would last through the fall. She had done several theater shows and one film while in Seguin, and was about to embark on 15 week classes teaching basic theater to 6 and 7 year olds. Things were working out for her in Seguin. She was meeting people and getting job opportunities and selling her books. Everything she had wanted in Palacios that hadn’t worked out.

But her heart was still in the big, white house and it was hard to stay away from it.

She’d spent the day before packing for her trip and cleaning the house so her Grandmother wouldn’t be tempted to work with a fractured spine awaiting treatment. Finally, she got on the road just in enough time to get there shortly before Val did.

She hadn’t reached the outskirts of Seguin, however, when she got a nagging voice to check her car fluids. It was most inconvenient. There wasn’t much reason. Ryan had said the oil was fine, they’d just replaced the power-steering pump and hose. She had four different men under the hood that day and the day before.

But she hadn’t checked the transmission. And the nagging voice wouldn’t go away. So she pulled over and checked the transmission fluid. Everything was fine. She got back in the car, started the engine, then thought she may as well check the power steering.

It was about halfway. She refilled it and continued down the road. It was a straight shot on I-10 and the next two hours passed well. Once she got to Houston, she maneuvered easily around traffic. She was just thinking she might not be afraid of Houston any more – she might even be able to live there if any theater draw was strong enough. The hardest part of the drive was the airport and guessing which terminal Val would come in.

Then she turned into the airport parking, only to have the wheel suddenly stiffen. She managed to maneuver it into the paying part and chatted pleasantly with the man who gave admittance. Then Lindsey joined the ranks of people who found out how tricky it is to get to the third floor of an airport parking garage with a car that protests turning. Before she found a parking spot, she was forced to pull a Chinese fire drill, popping the hood, grabbing the bottle from the trunk and filling the power steering with the rest of the liquid. Enough to coax the car into turning but not enough to slay the groaning dragon in the hood or have an easy time getting into a tiny parking space between a monster truck and a little white car that was badly angled to crash into hers at the moment its owner put it into reverse. Several attempts at getting into a good position with lousy steering had Lindsey abandoning all thoughts of arriving calm and collected, especially realizing that if she hadn’t checked the fluids, she wouldn’t be arriving at all and would very possibly be dead. Val texted, WHERE ARE YOU? And received an answer. “Having a panic attack in the parking lot.”

And thus the great reunion at the Big, White House began.

The girls stopped at Sub-Way, then continued on to Lake Jackson to meet everyone at Carinos as tradition demanded. As they pulled into BestBuy, they again found the steering go out. This time it was Val driving who remarked it was odd that the car always went out right as they were turning to arrive. They went to Bestbuy to buy Smallville, then walked over to Wal-Mart for more fluid. At Hastings, they found a used copy of Smallville for much cheaper than Lindsey had gotten hers, so they bought that one and took the other back.

Before they did, however, they decided Texas heat demanded an input of liquid. Lindsey spied something called a raspberry cream dream and was wondering if that was like an Italian cream soda. Val brought up that very choice as her pick so Lindsey got one too.

It was terribly yummy but there was a lot of cream and not enough raspberry. Lindsey drank half of hers and stopped before she got TOO sick. Then they read the misadventures of Stanley and Nichole on Lindsey’s kindle, finding the events much funnier than they should be and giggling over – practically everything.

Lindsey checked out the DVD set from Nick who caught her up on his days after college. Then they returned the first DVD and went into Carinos to warn of a large group of people.

They were seated immediately by a man who looked Erish. Then there was about ten minutes of waiting before Shelby and McCauley arrived early. They had just enough time for basic catching-up when the Jinkins’ arrival was announced by a high-pitched screech from Jami who had no idea anyone she knew was waiting at Carinos – much less Val coming from Wisconsin. Jami clung to Val and Laura giggled over her master-minded success of surprising her girl.

The arrival of Payton, Oliva and Juliana completed the party. They hung out until they bordered on loitering, before moving back to good old Hastings, moving between the shelves of books.

When it was down to the Moore famiy, they moved to Wal-Mart to get a few groceries to last the week. Then was the long drive back with Lindsey’s father texting from the house, “Lindsey, o Lindsey, wherefore art thou?”

Lucky he was down, the girls arrived, put the food away and crashed. Lindsey slept all night as she usually did in Palacios.

The next day was spent in the big, white house, watching a few Smallville episodes from the first season. They walked down to Sonic, then to Super S, effectively covering a good portion of Palacios in 100 degree weather.

Lindsey’s dad picked them up a block from the house, taking them to the library to see if the librarian had kept her promise to order the book.

She had and they found it on the Juvinile shelf – the same ones that housed the Hank the Cowdog books Lindsey had read as a kid. To all outward appearances, no one had checked out the book. Lindsey suggested moving it to the adult section since there was nothing between the books for fourth graders and the adult books.

The left and sat on the front porch a while all chatting. They were getting ready to go eat Mexican food when Terry’s voice shouted from the front yard. “Lindsey come quick!”

Since they’d been moving air conditioners and refrigerators, Lindsey’s first image was her father struggling to keep some piece of furniture from tumbling onto him. She rushed out of the house to see a truck in the front yard, a man getting out of it, her father chasing a small, black cat that for all appearances looked rabid.

A flurry later, the cat was sitting beside them, panting and dehydrated as the man explained that it had crawled up into his car, then jumped out and gotten run over.

They brought it water, waiting for it to calm enough to drink. It didn’t seem interested but when Lindsey brought out food, it perked up.

Watching it, Val remarked that it acting like Charles – and later watching it flit from person to person to the tree stump, chair, step and back that it acted like Lance. This it was dubbed Charleson. He took to the name and immediately made himself at home.