Chapter 143~

“I don’t know what to do!  I can’t keep up with processing and picking and-“ Willow’s wail cut off her words.

Jill wandered the huge garden plot, the greenhouse and checked the trees in the orchard.  “Do you have all the food your family needs?”

“All the produce, but-“

“Well then you have two options.  The first is that you could just hire a bunch of teenagers to pick the fruit and you could bring it to the store.”  She glanced around the farmhouse, observed the tidy yards and huge flowerbeds, and watched the sheep grazing.  “But, if I was you, I’d have a ‘Self-Serve’ Sunday.  Open your farm up to visitors from one p.m. to seven p.m.  Allow them to pick all the produce they want and charge by the pound.  That way, you’d only have to hire one or two teens to man scales and cash box.”

“I like it.  As fast as things are getting mature, I think I’ll do a Wednesday and Sunday one.  Once a week will have too much waste.”

“How about the  pumpkin patch.  How is it doing?  I haven’t been out there in a while but it looks good from the road.”

Excitedly, Willow made Jill promise to look as she left.  “The first pumpkins will be ready around mid-September I think.  I’m so excited about it.  When he showed me those city patches I just cringed for those kids.  He wants to do a corn maze next time, but I don’t think we have the time for it.”

“Well, get some scales, some more buckets, and paint a sign.”

A wail from upstairs sent Jill home and Willow upstairs to rescue her ‘starving’ sons from apparent imminent demise.  Chad found her on the swing, Lucas rolling around trying his best to fall off while Liam nursed.  “Well, this is a sight for weary eyes.”

“Rough day?”

“No—good day, actually.  Just long when you’d rather be home.”

“Good day?  How?”  Willow sat Liam up and rubbed his back firmly until he managed to burp up the air he’d swallowed.

“That’s m’boy.”  Chad winked at her.  “Aiden Cox.”

“What about him?”

“He came zipping down the street, on his scooter, wearing his helmet, elbow and knee pads.  He even jumped off the sidewalk when he saw Alexa Hartfield walking toward him.”

“Will wonders never cease?”

“I just wish he didn’t have to learn the hard way like that.”

“The hard way?”  Willow passed Liam to her husband and grabbed her basket.  It was past egg gathering time.

Chad scooped Lucas up in his other arm and carried them around the house talking to Willow as he went.  “He was there the day of the accident.  He saw me working on the baby.  I didn’t have time to stop and make him go away.”

“Oh Chad!  How horrible!”

“I think the reaction of the sitter made the biggest impact on him.”  It was as though Chad couldn’t stop talking about it.  All through the egg gathering, he told about calling Mrs. Cox and suggesting she come and get her son, how he’d blocked Aiden’s view of the child, and tried to comfort the sitter before her hysterics drove Aiden into the street just to get away from it all.

Abruptly, he changed the subject.  “So what did you do today?”

“I know how we’re going to save the produce.”

“Really?”

Willow outlined the plan for the produce stand and by the time they went to bed that night, an extra large sign was ready to attach to the fence out by the gate.  Excited at the idea, Chad was certain it’d ensure success for the pumpkin patch as well.  More than everything else, both of them were happy that all of Willow’s hard work wouldn’t be wasted.  If she had to choose farm work or time with her sons, her sons would win diapers and little hands down, but she preferred not to see the rot and waste that would come from her inability to finish her projects.

***

The success of ‘Walden Farms’ produce was phenomenal.  Instead of doing all the work, she simply walked through the gardens, pointing at the ripe and mature foods and shaking her head when someone started to pick something not quite ready.  Thanks to her diligence, the crops were picked at their peak, but not stripped clean too early.

Everyone loved the boys, and the sling Willow fashioned out of athletic jersey kept her and the boys as cool as possible with them strapped to each hip.  Marianne showed up on opening day and spent ten minutes on the back step clutching her stomach and howling with mirth at the sight of Willow’s ‘humongous hips’.  However, it was an effective way to keep abreast of what was happening with her garden and keep the boys occupied with something other than wrestling in the playpen.

With less to do in processing the extra food, Willow found time to butcher her meat chickens on schedule and kept her egg layers happy with their new extra large run.  She and Chad still ate the laying hens as new layers came up in the ranks, but she used meat chickens to serve her customers looking for free ranging and hormone free chickens.  For some inexplicable reason, the boys would sit for hours in a playpen in the new barn and watch their mother pluck, skin, and wrap chickens.  They rattled their toys, took an occasional wrestling tumble, but then seconds later, were back watching each fascinating movement.  Chad was disgusted.

In a vintage overnight case that Marianne found in an antique store, Willow stored the cut out clothes she planned to sew for the ever-growing boys.  It sat beneath the coffee table looking very much like it belonged there.  Willow had great plans to cover it with fabric or paint it to match the room, but for now it was just a plain brown case looking like it was put there as part of the décor.  Inside flannel lined overalls, Jon-Jons, rompers, and of course, more rompers.  She knitted ‘longies’ out of the white wool that Chad still hated, and no evening went by that Chad didn’t find a new pile of something or another on the coffee table when he got home from work waiting for her to put away the next day.

One evening late in September, he arrived home at two in the morning to find her journal laying on the coffee table next to three piles of new diapers, longies,  and to his amusement, hand knitted and sewn footed pajamas.  She’d just spent twice the cost or more making something that could be purchased at Wal-Mart for five dollars each.  Even as he thought it, her words from those early days came back to him, “I can’t afford to buy cheap things.  I need to invest in quality so that I don’t have to replace them as often.”  She’d assume that cheap equaled inferior.

He picked up one of the sleepers and felt the softness of the fabric, the carefully knitted wool feet and attached hoods.  “She’s right,” he murmured to himself.  This will last through another ten children and look almost as good then as they do now.”  Something Dr. Kline had mentioned caused him to add even more softly, “Even if they aren’t our children.”

In the kitchen, on the back of the woodstove, he found a bowl of stew on the still-hot stovetop.  Using pot holders, he sat it on a plate, grabbed a spoon, some cornbread, and a glass of milk, and went back to the living room.  As he ate, he read the latest entry into Willow’s journal.

September-

The strain on our friendship seems all but gone now.  Chad seems to have taken his father’s words to heart and when things get stressful, he simply talks about it—even when he doesn’t want to.  I think he’s amazingly brave.  It’s hard enough stopping drunks, breaking up fights between families, or dealing with an accident.  It’s even harder to come home and have to make yourself vulnerable to the very people you want to shield from those things.

The little chaps are growing and growing!  Mother marked my growth inside the door of my closet so I’ve been using each side of their closet for their growth.  It’s easier to mark them now than at first.  I used to have to lay them down and use my measuring tape and transfer, but now they’ll stand up against the door just like Mother used to do.

Liam is crawling.  He can’t seem to go forward, however.  He sees something across the room, gets up on all fours, crawls with all his might, and ends up farther away from it than ever.  It is hysterical watching him and the look of utter confusion on his face.  One of these days he’ll put his knee forward instead of backward to go and actually get there.

Lucas, on the other hand, gets to anywhere he wants to go by crawling on his forearms and elbows.  Chad calls it the ‘army crawl’.  It is slow, and it looks horribly uncomfortable, but he can get anywhere he wants to go much to Liam’s consternation.  He also has all four front teeth whereas Liam only has three.

Mom says that the boys are growing amazingly fast.  The clothing she buys them are all designed for children of twelve months instead of six so in her opinion, that means they’re exceptionally healthy.  However, Dr. Wesley concurs (although for more medically substantiated reasons) so I guess that’s good.

Lucas knows Chad’s voice and has a very keen sense of hearing.  If Chad even says a word to me when he gets home, Lucas hears it and will wake up unless he’s in a very deep sleep.  If he’s playing on the floor, he’ll start crawling and has even climbed up on Chad’s leg to get closer.  Liam is definitely attached to Chad, but it’s not the same as watching Lucas.  I don’t know if it is a personality difference or if maybe he’s a little less advanced… I just don’t know, but I think it’s interesting.

We’re going to have a lot of trouble keeping the boys from the stoves this winter.  They’re too little to really understand and too old to leave them alone.  Chad has been building ‘fences’ to go around them, but I’ve finally asked for a fence to keep them out of the kitchen all together.  We can’t put the fence around the kitchen stove and me be able to get into it for baking and things.  However, I do have the little play yard I can put in the middle of the kitchen for them.

The garden is under control again.  Most of the produce is either ready for me to process, all picked, or just growing in the greenhouse.  We started new tomatoes outside just to try it.  We have the water walls all around them and will see how they work.  We always used to start them that way when it was getting warmer but not when it was getting colder.  I don’t think it’ll work, but we can’t know unless we try.

All the fruit is picked and the alfalfa is in the barn.  There were so many acres of alfalfa this time that Chad rented a baler to put up the hay in the barn.  We’ve got enough to keep the animals fed for most of winter without calling the feed store.  I’m excited about that.  Fortunately, we didn’t have to remove very many trees to plant those crops either.  The property we bought from Adric was old cropland that just needed a good tilling and a couple of young trees removed.  Those trees are now in our front pasture for shade for the sheep.

Ryder has revamped the greenhouse to be twice as productive.  He’s built “loft beds” for shallow growing vegetables and herbs.  He almost doubled our produce with that one move.  Alexa Hartfield found out I could grow corn year round and has offered me obscene prices to keep her supplied.  How could I say no?  We’ll get some too so it’ll be good for all of us.   Meanwhile, the work Ryder does in the greenhouse has given him lots of material for his first term paper.  I don’t understand it all or why they even have to do it, but Chad says it’s normal.

I met Ryder’s girlfriend the other day.  She seems like a lovely young woman, and showed an intelligent interest in what he’s doing here.  She took a tour of the house and asked questions about why we do much of what we do.  I guess a cell phone next to an oil lamp is a bit of an odd sight.  Chelsea, his girlfriend, is a senior in high school and plans to attend Rockland University next fall.  She seems to be interested in nursing.  Ryder seems very taken with her.  I hope he’s not too young.  I’d hate to see him or her hurt.

Granddad comes once a week, without fail, on Thursday afternoons.  He sits with a boy on his lap, talks to them about Mother, tells him about Uncle Kyle and about my cousins, and plays with him.  Then he passes the little lad to me and picks up the next.  Those boys adore their G-G-Dad.  I had no idea that children so young could be so attached to someone other than possibly their mother, but they are.  When Grandmom comes, they both fall asleep to her lullabies and curl up with her as though she’s the greatest thing in their little worlds.  I love it.

We see Mom and Dad Tesdall around every ten days or so.  It’s never quite two weeks, but usually more than one.  Why that matters, I don’t know, but there you have it.  We take turns making dinner for each other, and when they come, they insist that Chad and I go into town for ice cream or a movie.  At first, I was annoyed by the idea that we needed to get away from the children, but now I understand that it’s not about getting us away from the babies and all about giving us time alone together.  It’s about giving us something rather than getting us away from something.  Fine nuance, but a big one.  I can see that it means a lot to Chad, and the more we go, the more I look forward to those couple of free hours to focus on him alone.

I’ve been invited to speak at a Christian Women’s Retreat in New Cheltenham next spring.  Chad recommended that I accept, but I still haven’t decided.  They are asking for women around the greater Rockland area in hopes that people will make friends of both the attendees and the speakers.  I’m requested to speak on beauty in life and journaling.  How did they find out that I journal?  Chad wants me to try to get mother’s journals ‘edited’ so that I can offer them for sale at the retreat.  He thinks they’d be a huge encouragement to other women, but I’m not sure.  I don’t know if I have time for that project.  Chad, the lads, and the farm must come first.

Chad found the change in pen color and the fine differences in writing or penmanship style between paragraphs amusing.  She’d taken to starting one journal entry for each month and just adding to it as she had a moment.  A paragraph or two at a time, the information that meant most to her ended up on paper.  Sometimes she wrote about what was on her heart, the wrestling she had to overcome her own sins and weaknesses, and other times specific details about how to do something with the children or the work to make it smoother or more efficient.

He hadn’t realized how pressured he’d made her feel to do things he thought were important.  Reading about the retreat and Kari’s journals through her eyes, he could see the pressure she felt, and if he was honest with himself, the pain it would cause her to do something so intense with her mother’s journals.  He’d have to tell her not to worry about it.

He crawled upstairs ready to climb in bed only to find it empty.  With a sigh that only Willow understood how to translate, he made an about face and went back downstairs, onto the front porch, and found her curled up on the porch swing with several blankets.  A closer look showed tearstains on her cheeks.

Were they evidence of more grief at the loss of her mother?  A result of the pressure she was under?  Were they something between her and the Lord?  Why the tears?  Could they have been prevented?   And finally, why did he always feel so helpless when he saw evidence of tears, but a little irritated when he actually saw her crying?

Chapter 142~

The front porch creaked in rhythm to Chad’s push.  As each moment passed, he created quite a list of grievances in his mind until finally, he jumped from the swing and strode into the house.  He grabbed his keys from the kitchen table, and hobbled down the back steps.  At the truck, he remembered the boys and returned upstairs for more diapers and out to the barn for a few more containers of Willow’s milk.  He’d see if Lily could keep the boys a bit longer.  It was time for a talk with his father.

***

“I just don’t know where she’s gone or why she’s been so impossible.”

Christopher listened to his son, confusion growing.  The argument didn’t make sense from either standpoint.  Neither Chad nor Willow was so unreasonable and vindictive.  Such spiteful conversation didn’t make sense.  “Chad, none of this makes sense.”

“You’re telling me-“

Grabbing his phone, Christopher dialed Willow’s number much to the chagrin of his son.  “Willow, where are you?”  He listened and then suggested she come to their home to talk.  “Of course, Willow; bring David.  I think that’d be a good idea.”

An hour later, they sat in the Tesdall living room, Marianne trying to get everyone to eat and drink, smiling as though the very sight of her forced good humor would somehow erase the ugliness of the situation.  Willow had entered the house and gone straight to hug Chad but his aloofness had sent her into a nearby chair nearly hugging herself.  The room was full of shocked onlookers and Christopher no longer assumed that they both shared equal responsibility for the argument.  He had a sinking feeling this time Chad was way out of line.

“I’d like to take Willow into the family room and hear what she has to say, Chad.  Will you let David know what’s bothering you while we’re gone?”  Somehow, he knew hearing it together would start an argument that had no chance of being heard.

How two people could use the same words and make it sound exactly opposite the other story, Christopher didn’t understand.  Listening to Willow, he heard the same description of the ‘milking machines’, the ladder, and the electricity, but from a much more logical viewpoint.  Even as he listened, Christopher knew something was eating at his son.

“Willow, I think there’s something bothering Chad.  My guess is work.”

“There was a bad accident the other day.”

“He’s probably taking it out on you.  City cops tend to bring their work home to process and sometimes they take it out on those closest to them.  Not much happens like that in Fairbury so I doubt you’ve seen it very often but I’m imagining that there were children involved or something?”

“I don’t know, he wouldn’t talk about it.”

“I could be wrong,” Christopher admitted trying to avoid taking sides, “But I think Chad was picking a fight.  I don’t think he realizes it, and once he does, he’s going to feel terrible.”  His hand covered hers comfortingly.  “It’ll happen again, I imagine.  Next time I hope you’ll be able to recognize it and maybe that’ll help.”

“What do I do?  He’s upset about things that don’t make any sense.  I can’t just ignore him; it’s rude, not to mention he’d be livid.”

“You guys are both going to have to recognize this.  You can’t laugh at his unreasonableness; he can’t deny or bottle his reactions.”

“Ok.”  Her voice sounded small and confused.

“Let’s go then.”

“I need to go upstairs for a few minutes.”

The way she crossed her arms over her chest told him it’d been too long since her last ‘milking’.  “We’ll be waiting.”

When Chad didn’t invite Willow to sit with him or even acknowledge her return to the discussion, Christopher realized it was going to get worse before it got better.  “Well now, I’m very proud of both of you.  Things went wrong and instead of lashing out repeatedly at each other, you both came for counsel.  This is good.”

Chad grunted.  Willow’s hands wrung miserably and uncharacteristically, she cringed almost looking like a whipped puppy.  This was harder on her than any of them realized.  Marianne’s arms went around her and she whispered something in Willow’s ear making Chad glower even more.  Had the situation not been so strained and uncomfortable, she’d have laughed.  He looked exactly as he did when sat on a chair to ‘cool off’ after getting mad at Cheri over this thing or that when he was still in elementary school.

“This all started when Chad found Willow working in the orchard, is that right?”

Both of them nodded.  “Chad seemed annoyed by it,” Willow added confused.

“Of course I was!  My wife was walking around outside with her shirt unbuttoned and breast pumps attached to her.  How did you rig those things to stay attached like that?”

“It wasn’t hard, Chad,” she explained.  “And I can’t imagine why you’d be bothered.  No one knew I was out there but you;  no one could see me, and frankly, even if they could, I was pretty well covered by machinery.”

“See what I mean!”

Marianne sat up sharply.  “Knock it off Chad.  That was uncalled for.  It makes perfect sense to me.”

“Did you know she sent the boys home with Lily and Tabitha for the day?  She knows how much you love to spend time with them, but when she wants to get work done does she call you?  No.  She just sends them off like some kind of career woman dropping her kids off at daycare.”

The entire room erupted in a shocked and unified, “Chad!”

“What!”

Willow’s voice was small and quiet.  “Did you really think that’s how it was?  Did you really think I couldn’t wait to get my little chaps out of the house so I could go do my own thing without them underfoot?”

“You did it quickly enough.”

She bit her lip trying not to cry.  “Chad, every week at some time or another, you tell me how much the church is supposed to bear each other’s burdens.  You tease me all the time about how I’m willing to help someone else, but I’m not willing to accept help.  You tell me that relationships with the church aren’t an option—that we need to invest time together and that this is what you want for your sons.”  A sob escaped, but she kept going.  “So Lily overhears me talking with Jill and she knows I’ve been slower with my work this summer so she insists on taking the boys for the day so I can get some things done.”

Encouragingly, Marianne patted her hand.  “It was thoughtful of Lily to do that.”

“But of course that means she sent the boys to Lily instead of letting you have time with them when she knows how much you crave it.”  The defensiveness in Chad’s tone was more belligerent although losing some of its angst.

“I don’t know what I should have done!  Should I have said, ‘No thank you Lily.  It’s a kind offer, but I’d rather the boys spend time with Marianne.  I think I’ll see if she wants to come take them while I pick peaches?  Do you think I wanted Lily to take them at all?”

“At least mom-“

“I’m the mom here and I’ll tell you, I don’t know how she can please you in this.  Have you told her she needs to deepen fellowship ties with your church?”

“Well yeah, but-“

“And have you told her she needs to let people serve her?”

“Don’t you think Willow could-“

“Answer the question, Chad.”  Marianne’s tone took on the familiar ‘don’t mess with your mother’ tone he’d grown up fearing.

“Yes but-“

“And am I right in assuming that you’ve mentioned it quite frequently?”

“It takes that to get it through Willow’s head.”

“Well it got through,” Willow muttered exhausted.  “I remembered what you said, thought I was being difficult about things, decided I could always go and get the boys early if necessary, and accepted their offer thinking you’d be so proud of me.”

The last words were choked out with emotion that wrung the hearts of almost everyone there.  Chad felt a flicker of emotion but hardened himself.  This wasn’t his fault.  “Proud of excluding my mom-“

“I didn’t mean to exclude anyone.  I tried to include!”

Marianne didn’t let him respond.  “Don’t be an idiot Chad.  If you’ve told her these things in the past, it is not unreasonable that she assumed this was a good opportunity to follow your counsel and do as she knew you wished.  If you were my husband, I’d have a glass of ice water in your face by now.”

Willow’s head shot up quickly.  “Can I?”

The room erupted in laughter.  Chad’s mouth twitched ever so slightly, but no one saw it.  Without a word, Christopher passed her his glass of water and crossed his arms challenging Willow and his son to step up to the plate.

“What about the electricity?”  David hadn’t spoke much since he’d arrived, but this part of the story had greatly confused him.

“What about it?”

“Well, the last time we talked, you told me that one of the things that drew you to Willow in the first place was how different her life was.  You said you loved how they’d kept the convenience of electricity but had removed themselves from it just enough to ensure that they didn’t allow things to slowly encroach onto their lives like they had for most of society.  You liked having to decide if a movie was worth setting up your laptop, turning on the electricity, and you said that the simple act of lighting a candle was a daily reminder that one Christian can bring a lot of Jesus’ light into the world.  What changed?”

“Nothing.  I just saw her hacking away at the ice and with all she had to do, I thought it’d be nice if we had a refrigerator in the house to save work.”

Without a word, Marianne stood, went into her kitchen, and returned with the ice bin from her freezer.  This, she unceremoniously sat on his lap, stood back, and said, “So when you have an ice machine, you can avoid having to chip apart ice cubes, right?”

Chad had the grace to flush.  “It was just a thought, but she-“

“Chad, after you said that, I commented that we didn’t use electricity most of the year and your response was, ‘well we could if you weren’t determined to live in the past’.  Considering you’ve told me time and again that you love how Mother and I kept the best parts of the past while embracing the best parts of today, that was the biggest slap in the face of all.  I felt like I’d been lied to all this time.”

Christopher stepped in before Chad could say something he’d eventually regret.  “Not a week before those babies were born, you told me that you were the most blessed man alive to have a heritage like Willow’s to pass onto your children.  I have to admit,” Christopher admitted, “I felt a little insulted.  We may not have had the same kind of rich traditions and unique lifestyle, but we taught you to love the Lord, about  community and family but your heart was wrapped in the life that you wanted for your sons.”

Those words knocked the first brick out of Chad’s wall.  “Oh Pop, I didn’t mean—“

“I know you didn’t, son.  You didn’t mean that then and you didn’t mean to reject it all when you spoke to Willow today, did you?”

“Of course not.  I just- I”  Chad didn’t know what he’d meant.  What made so much sense at the time suddenly felt confusing.

“I have a feeling that’s a little bit how Willow felt tonight; am I right Willow?”

A slight nod accompanied her faint, “I had no idea what to think.”

Marianne couldn’t take it anymore.  “It sound to me like you came home and tried to pick a fight.”

“So it’s all my fault.  I see.  I would have thought my family could see-“

“What a jerk you’re being?”  Marianne’s expression dared her son to argue with her.

“Tell me about the accident this week.”

The room went utterly silent and still at Christopher’s question.  Chad’s face grew hard as though shutting off everyone around him.  “It was ugly, ok?  Is that what you want to hear?  A little verbal sensation seeker?”

“Stuff it, Chad.  I’m asking a legitimate question.  Was a child hurt?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.  A little girl not much older than the lads riding on the seat without a car seat.  The babysitter wanted a soda and didn’t have the seat.  She just put the poor thing there and tried to get there and back before anyone missed her.”  He crossed his arms again.  “Are you satisfied?  Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Of course we don’t want to hear about that kind of thing; no one does.  But Chad, can’t you see it’s eating at you?”

At the words ‘not much older’ Willow had stood, crossed the room, sat next to Chad, and wrapped her arms around him.  “I’m so sorry.  That must have been so awful.”

“It’s the job.”

“Doesn’t make it easy.  Is the baby going to be ok?”

At the choked sound in Chad’s voice, the room emptied quickly leaving Chad and Willow alone.  “She’s better off than she’s ever been—than any of us are.  She’s with Jesus.”

With those words, Chad broke down and wept speaking of holding the dear little girl’s broken body and trying to find some kind of life left in it.  He told of having to notify parents at their place of work that their little daughter was gone and of how he’d had to arrest a broken and shocked babysitter for several broken laws.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You don’t need to hear about the ugly side of my job.”

“But Chad, the ugly side of your job is usually a domestic dispute or a drunk driver.  It isn’t like you deal with child deaths every day.  You can’t just let that eat at you.”

“You seemed to mock everything I said today.”

“I wasn’t trying to.  Actually, I thought you were teasing me half the time.”  She glanced at his face seeing the change slowly wash over him.  “I didn’t mean to offend you with leaving the boys or not wanting the fridge.  If you want to leave the electricity on in the house, just tell me.  I’ll learn to adjust.”

Seeing the sacrifice she was willing to make for him crumbled the rest of the wall he’d erected between them.  “Was I really as awful as it seems like I was?”

“Let’s just say I didn’t quite know who you were for a while.  If I’d realized that the accident was probably affecting you, I might have been a little more understanding.”

The sight of Christopher’s glass on the coffee table caught Chad’s attention.  “Still want to throw that at me?”

“Not this time.”

“I don’t want there to be a next time, Lass.”

‘There will be.  I have no doubt that there will be.”  She smiled.  “I’m warning you though, next time I’m going to call it like it is and I’m not going to play along.  You can pick all the fights you want, say all the ugly things you can think of, but I’m not engaging.  I let this get under my skin this time but I won’t let it happen again.”

“If you tell me I’m just decompressing, I’m liable to blow up at you.”

“Now that I understand why, I can take it,” she assured him with an air of confidence Chad prayed was genuine.

“Now what do we do?”

She glanced at her watch.  “Pick up our sons before I explode?”

Chapter 141~

July-

I think I had the best birthday of my life this year.  Chad and I had a delightful time shopping, wandering around the zoo, and relaxing in the hotel room.  We didn’t even go out to dinner.  We ordered room service, watched a bunch of ridiculous TV, and talked for hours.  It was wonderful.

The boys didn’t seem to mind spending the day with doting grandmothers, grandfathers, and aunts, well aunt, and I got to spend time with Chad.  I told him that I thought it was ironic that a couple of years ago I thought he was ever-present and a bit clingy and now I was abandoning our children for a few hours so I could be more clingy.  Surprisingly enough, he isn’t complaining.

One of the most wonderful parts of the trip was a walk around Granddad’s neighborhood.  He showed me where Mother’s best friend’s house was, told me he’d written her to tell her about me and what happened to Mother, and even pointed out where she got on the school bus every day.  It was strange to see everything that Mother knew but probably wouldn’t recognize anymore.

We’ve gotten very close, Granddad and I.  The boys’ birth changed something in us and for that, all the pain was worth it.  I’d wondered about how he’d take our naming Liam after him, but when he picked up his little namesake he said, “David William.  I never imagined you’d use my name.”  It wasn’t the words that affected me so deeply, it was the way he said them.  My Granddad was honored in our choice.

Wow.  I don’t think I’ve ever said or written that before.  “My Granddad.”  My little lads are going to know their granddads and have a lifetime of memories with them if the Lord will see fit to let them live long enough.

Liam is through nursing.  I guess it is time for me to put down my pen and pick up a bucket.  Tomatoes are calling.

Willow stared at her journal as she nursed a very fussy Liam.  She’d missed journaling for nearly three weeks, and now her little guy was teething making it hard to keep current.  Chad had mentioned something twice about how she’d be sorry if she didn’t take the time to write down the little things that kept her days so busy.   “Those entries of your mother’s are so meaningful to you, Lass.  Don’t you think that our sons or their wives and children will want to read them as well?”

A fresh feeling of shame washed over her as she remembered her snappish retort and the look in Chad’s eyes.  She now knew exactly what he’d look like if she ever slapped him.  Her words already had.

August was half gone.  In another week, Ryder would be off for his first year at Rockland U.  He planned to commute and hoped to get as much work in as possible between studying and classes.  Caleb and he planned to carpool when possible but agriculture and criminal justice were as nearly opposite as two boys could choose.  The irony of the choices of their hired hands amused her.  She was agriculture, Chad criminal justice.

“Hey Lass?  You up there?”

Hoping not to kill the drowsiness dropping over little Liam’s face, Willow tried for a cough.  Chad’s footsteps echoed in the stairway growing louder as he neared the top.  He leaned against the bedroom doorjamb smiling at the picture of Willow in her chair nursing the baby, her feet propped on the foot of the bed.  “Still fussy?”

Nodding, Willow whispered smiling, “He’s almost out though.”

Her hands caressed his little head smoothing the hair into place.  He had a three inch piece of hair growing near the crown of his head forward like an elderly man  who combed one long  piece over a bald spot.    Chad’s voice brought her attention back to him.  “I could watch this all day.”

“Better get a picture then because I cannot sit here all day.  My leg is growing numb, peaches that are screaming to be processed, and now that you’re home, I can pick some more while you rest.  Lucas stopped fussing about half an hour ago and he’s,” she stood gingerly and shifted the baby and pulled her shirt down discreetly, “going to stay out this time.  I rubbed his gums with a little brandy.  Mother’s journals said that seemed to soothe me and two of her medical books recommend it so I tried it.”

“Did you ask Dr. Wesley about it?”  Brandy for a baby seemed awfully risky to Chad.

“I didn’t think about it.  Two books and Mother were enough for me, but I’ll call when I get a chance.”

Willow settled Liam next to Lucas and patted his back until he wiggled his head into his brother’s stomach and settled into sleep.  The boys slept like that often—one head tucked into the curve of the other’s fetal position like a human ‘T’.  She closed the door behind her and crept downstairs to make Chad a sandwich before she spent the next couple of hours picking peaches.

***

Chad carried his sandwich out the back door, dropping crusts for Portia as he crossed the yard, wandered around the barn, and back between the tree break to the orchard.  As he neared, he could smell the comforting scent of alfalfa.  It was time to harvest that too.  The next day was his day off.  He’d get started on it then.

The baby monitor crackled in his pocket and he paused to listen, but there was nothing.  The garden cart had four buckets filled on it already and Willow was carrying a fifth to it.  “Wow, you’re working fast.”

“My body seems to be screaming for some hard physical work so I decided to reach as far as I could, work as fast as I can, and carry things a bit in order to give me some exercise.  I think I’m weaker since having the boys than I was while I was pregnant.”

“Of course you are,” Chad teased taking the bucket from her and forgetting that she wanted the work.  “When you were pregnant, you carried weights with you everywhere you went.”

“Well, now I need to give my body some real work or its going to protest.”  She punched her still-paunchy stomach ruefully.  “And if this doesn’t start looking a little less pregnant, I’m going to protest.  I don’t mind looking pregnant when I am but the boys are four months old and I look at least that pregnant.”

Chad wisely kept the mental adjustment to himself.  “Sorry Lass,” he thought amusedly, “that’d be six months for the average pregnant woman.” Aloud he reassured her with something his mother had mentioned the last time they spoke.  “Mom says it takes your body nine months to get out of shape so it is only reasonable that it’d take that long to get it back where it belongs.”

She nodded absently as she grabbed another empty bucket and walked away pointing toward the house.  “Go to bed Chaddie Lad.  I can see you’ve had a rough day.”

“How?”

“You don’t want to sleep, but you don’t want to talk either.  You just want me to talk to you.”

She whipped her head around, and Chad sucked in his breath sharply at the sight of her smile half hidden by her wide hat.  How did she do that?  How did she go from being just ‘attractive’ to amazingly gorgeous at the oddest times?  Why had God chosen to bless him with this life, this wife, and the two most amazing little sons a man could ever hope to have?

Willow waited for him to protest and then nodded satisfied.  “Tell it to Jesus, Chad.  He’s waiting for you to talk to Him about it anyway.”

He waved, hefted the handles of the garden cart, and forced it down the path, around the barn, and carried the buckets into the summer kitchen.  It wasn’t much help, but Chad hated thinking of her pushing all that weight.  She thrived on it, but to Chad, it was like expecting a woman to change her own tire.  Sure she could do it, but that didn’t mean she should.  Even as the thought entered his mind, Chad brushed it aside.  If Willow knew it had even drifted into the vicinity of his thought processes without being blasted away, she’d blast him!

Cart returned, he dragged himself back to the house, up the stairs, and kicked off his shoes.  A peek at the boys found them sleeping soundly.  Hopefully Willow would be back before they woke him with their demanding cries for sustenance.  As he lay in bed waiting for sleep to erase the mental images of twisted metal and broken bodies, he remembered Willow’s not-so-gentle reminder to take his pain to Jesus.

Lucas’ piercing wail sent him flying from his bed almost the moment he fell asleep.  Chad hurried to the crib to grab him before Liam woke again.  Fortunately, the boys were deep sleepers or neither would have ever gotten any good sleep.  Chad shoved the little pillow Willow had created to simulate their sibling’s body against Liam’s head and wondered just how helpful it was.

By the time he reached his bed, Lucas snoozed again in Chad’s arms as though he’d never awakened at all.  Willow found them there two hours later, Chad snoring softly laying on his back propped by pillows,  while Lucas gave his own impressive snore for someone so tiny every now and again.  “Like Father, like son I suppose,” she muttered as she grabbed clothes for a quick shower.

“If there is one thing about motherhood I don’t like,” she said to Chad that evening, “It’s the loss of a good, long, hot shower.”

***

“What on earth are you doing, woman?”

Chad rounded the corner to the orchard to find Willow on the ladder, shirt flapping open in the breeze, breast pumps strapped to her body,  pumping away as she picked peaches.  “Where are the boys?”

“Lily and Tabitha picked them up an hour ago.  This fruit is going bad and they heard Jill say she’d buy all the preserves I could give her in the next three weeks, so they volunteered to take them so I could get it done.”

“And how is your pump running without electricity?”

“Lily went and got me a battery pack.  I didn’t know it was an option!  We can turn the electricity off again.”

The excitement in her voice told him that she’d been more bothered by keeping the breaker on than he’d realized.  He also realized he’d grown accustomed to flipping on lights that now had working bulbs, plugging in fans at random, and suggesting a movie much more often than they’d ever done before the boys were born.

“So, you’re pumping while picking?  Am I the only one not seriously bothered by this?”

“No one is around, it only takes about twenty minutes every few hours, and this way I’m not stuck in a chair while these milking machines drain me.”  She pointed to her canteen.  “Can you hand me that?  I’m parched.”

“Mom would have come…”

“I know, and it’s not that I didn’t want her, but Lily called and asked, and you’re always saying that I never accept help from the church so I thought I’d accept this time.”

For the second time in just a few minutes, her words irritated him.  First the glee in finding a way around using electricity as if it was some great sin, and now casting his words back at him like he didn’t know what he said and she didn’t know what he’d meant.  It was as though she was deliberately trying to provoke an argument or something.  Chad’s irritation threatened to erupt in anger.

She grabbed the bucket and awkwardly carried it toward the cart.    The sight of her arms fighting to move around the pumps and hold the bucket with both hands would have made him laugh if Chad was in a better mood.  Irritably, he took the bucket from her and hoisted it onto the cart waiting for her protest that she could do it herself.

“Thanks.  It’s not so easy with these things in the way.”

Unaware of the storm brewing in Chad’s heart, Willow unstrapped the pumps, poured the milk into a jar in the ice chest at the back of the cart, and set the pumps in a basket.  “Why are you home?  I thought you didn’t get off until four?”

“Judith swapped beat with me and then the Chief came in grumpy and said I could either sort the filing or go home.  I opted for home.”

“Joe and Judith’ll kill you.”

“Brad too, but hey.”

Unaware that Chad needed to talk out some of his thoughts, Willow pointed to the cart.  “Mind taking that up to the barn for me?”

He sighed and reached for the handles.  Willow mistook his  sigh for dismay at the weight and moved to the front of the cart to help pull.  “I’ll help.  Sorry.”

“I’ve got it, Lass,” he growled and jerked his thumb ordering her out of the way.

She stood watching him wheel the cart through the trees until he vanished from sight.  Something wasn’t right with him, but she didn’t’ quite know what.  Maybe he should spend the afternoon fishing or take Lacey for a long ride.  Shrugging, Willow grabbed another bucket and moved the ladder to the last two trees.  At this rate, she’d be ready to start processing within the hour.

Chad wheeled the cart back to the orchard, his temper smoldering hotter with every step.  Any moment, the slightest spark would make it flash into a full blown fire.   The sight of Willow teetering at the top of the ladder as she stretched for a lone peach on a branch just out of reach struck the final blow.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?  Get down from there!”

She missed the seriousness of his tone and laughed.  It was the wrong move.  Before he could dive to save her, Willow and the ladder crashed to the ground, Willow laughing harder than ever.  “Can you get that thing for me.  I think I’m going to lose a limb if I try again!”

With an impatient jerk, Chad righted the ladder, gave his wife a helping hand, and climbed to get the peach.  “Is a stupid peach really worth the risk?  Would it have been so difficult to move the ladder?  Twelve seconds and no injury or spend that twelve seconds leaning for it?  Why do you have to be so selfish!”

“Chad, I just fell off a step ladder.  I fell five feet for heaven’s sake.  Maximum!”  She looked at his red face and stepped closer.  “What’s wrong?  You seem out of sorts.”

“You have done nothing but  criticize me since I got home.”  He dropped the peach in her bucket.  “I’m going back to work.  At least files don’t have sharp tongues.”

“What!”  Willow stared at his retreating back and then fury flooded her own heart.  “I don’t think so mister!  Who do you think you are?”  Her words grew closer and closer but Chad didn’t turn around until her hand grabbed his shoulder.  “What are you talking about?  When have I criticized?”

“First the electricity, then the jab at my mother, then the implication that I’m not capable of doing any work, and now it’s all about how I’m out of sorts.  I think you’re working too hard, overheated, and possibly dehydrated.  I also think you need to realize that you don’t have to do everything just because you used to do it.”

All the way to the back porch, Chad ranted about everything from lack of sleep to the ‘insanity’ of her insistence that she make the boy’s clothing.  “Did it ever occur to you that I might want to buy them little RU t-shirts once in a while?”

“Who said you couldn’t?”  Her initial anger was turning into repressed hilarity.  Chad sounded absolutely ludicrous.  Nothing he said made any sense and little of it was comprehensible on the most rudimentary level.

“You did!  ‘I don’t want to buy their clothes until they need jeans.  I enjoy making them.’  Well what about what I enjoy?”

“You asked if I wanted to go shopping for clothes instead of stitching their little rompers myself.  I said no.  I didn’t say  you couldn’t buy something.  I said I didn’t want to do it myself.”  Just hearing him made Willow want to scream.  Did he really think that because she chose to sew a baby outfit she was trying to forbid him from buying anything?  “What about your mother?  When did I make a jab about your mother?”

“Well, not really about mom  I guess, but you did have to throw my own words back in my face when I asked why you didn’t call mom.  You know how much she wants to be with the boys and how she tries not to intrude too much.”

“She’s family, Chad!  How can she intrude?  I don’t care if she moves into Mother’s room indefinitely if it makes everyone happy.  I love your mother Chad!”

Had she managed to make the statement without a hint of laughter in her voice, Chad might have dropped the subject, but feeling ridiculed, he threw back the first thing that came to mind.  “You didn’t act like it when Mom was concerned about you and your pregnancy.  You thought she was interfering.”

“Chad, she was.  Everyone was.  I was pressured from all sides to reproduce, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want her and she knows that.”  Her voice grew exceptionally quiet as she opened the back door.  “For that matter, you know it.  I don’t know what has gotten into you, but I don’t know who you are right now.”  Without another word, she disappeared into the house leaving Chad standing on the back porch, livid.

He threw open the door and at the sight of her chipping ice into a bowl threw up his hands in disgust.  “Look at that.  If you’d just  keep ice in the freezer in the barn—or better yet, put a stupid freezer in this kitchen, you wouldn’t spend so much time chopping ice.”

“We don’t need a freezer in here and in there.  And fifteen seconds to move a ladder is something you want me to spend my time doing but fifteen seconds for my personal comfort in getting some ice for my lemonade isn’t?  It’s too much work to chip a bit of ice?”

“Why does everything have to be a contest with you, Willow?  Why must everything be done your way?  Would it kill us to have a fridge in here where we could keep a never ending supply of ice for water, lemonade, maybe a smoothie every now and then?”

“We don’t have electricity in here most of the year to run it.  It’d be a nuisance and a waste of space usage.”

“We could have electricity if you weren’t so determined to live in the past!”

Her amusement was completely gone.  Her irritation had started to rise but now fizzled in a puddle of hurt.  “I can’t believe you just said that.  After all the times-“  Without another word, she left the kitchen, grabbed her purse, hurried down the front steps, jerked open the mini-van driver’s door, and in a cloud of late summer dust, was gone.

The irony of her actions wasn’t lost on Chad.  “Of all the absolutely modern and normal ways to duck out of an argument, that has to be the most hysterical,” he muttered to himself, slamming his drink on the porcelain drain of the sink and shattering it into a thousand pieces.  “The only thing better would have been if she’d chewed me out by text.”

Ten minutes later, Chad stared in shock as his phone rang and Willow’s text message flashed on the screen.  “The animals need food and tending.  Let me know if you’re not going to do it.”

Chapter 140~

April-

Tax day.  I was excited about our little deductions but Bill says we don’t get to claim them until next April.  I think it’s a government plot to reinforce the erroneous idea that babies are not human until they are out of the womb.  I mean, I have to feed them, pay for their medical care, purchase the things they’ll need for when they arrive, and all in nine long months before they get here, but they don’t exist and aren’t deductible until they’re born.  I can, however, give birth, and if the baby dies before the end of the year, I still get to claim them.  That just reinforces the appalling attitude our country has regarding the unborn and it angers me.

Bill was visibly touched when I introduced him to little David William.  We’ve taken to calling him Liam because Will sounds so old and William is too stuffy and we already have a Bill.  Chad laughs because we didn’t want matchy names like Dirk and Dick and we got Liam and Lucas anyway.

The look on Bill’s face as he held his little namesake was priceless.  I saw Chad swallow hard a few times.  I think Bill has finally moved from frustrated suitor to a ‘friend closer than a brother’.  I can see his comfort level has changed and now with the boys, I think we’ll see more of him.  That blesses me immensely.  I hated that awkwardness after Chad and I got engaged.

The little chaps are three weeks old and thriving.  Apparently, I do not have Mother’s milk supply issues.  We finally, to give me relief and give Chad a way to get to feed his sons, purchased a breast pump.  Yes, they make milking machines for humans.  It amazes me.  I was determined to milk myself but when I saw the difference between what I could express and what the machine managed to get, I decided to go with the machine.  I’d used it for a week before Chad came downstairs laughing.  He’d just lit the bathroom candle for me and then realized that I could always turn on the light since we have to leave the breaker on for the milking machine.  Oh, and he really hates how I call it that.  It’s so fun to tease him

My Chad is adorable with his sons.  He talks to them, sings to them, and already lectures them on how to treat their mother.  When they fuss at feeding, he reminds them to eat what they’re given without fussing and with thanksgiving.  I can’t help but think he’s being a little ridiculous, but it is charming nonetheless.  When they soil their diapers, he talks about how men don’t make extra work for their wives, sisters, and mothers and as his little men, he expects them to become efficient at doing all of their business in one diaper so that I have less to watch.  Hyserical.  Absolutely hysterical.

Yesterday was my first day alone.  Mom Tesdall stayed for almost two weeks and then Grandmom came for five days.  Yesterday I woke up to a house that was empty.  I now understand mother’s slightly desperate tone in her early journals.  It isn’t easy doing all of this work when you have babies clamoring for food, dry diapers, and cuddles.  I woke up, fed all of us, and was ready to go back to bed.  However, Petra and Repetra both expected me to get out there and milk them.  Chad didn’t get off until eight so the job was mine.  I felt strange leaving the babies in their crib while I ran out to do it but they slept through it just fine.

We weeded the garden yesterday afternoon.  I’ve discovered that their little car seats are nice for them out there.  They can sit comfortably and watch me and be shaded by the sun.  I have a very fine mist spray bottle that I squirt them with when I feel hot and it seems to keep them quite comfortable.  Chad suggested I squirt down the shade really well so I’ll try that next time.

I am becoming much more efficient in my work.  We’ve always taken our time, done the job, moseyed along as we weeded, cleaned, or worked with the animals but now I have to get the job done, get it done right, and as quickly as possible in order to be available to the lads when they need me.  It makes some jobs less enjoyable but I’ve learned that it really helps with the ones I tend to drag out due to dislike.  For example, I’ve never cared much for weeding and would sit out there for hours picking them one at a time, dumping them in the bucket, carrying the full bucket to the burn pile… Only if I planned fishing was weeding done quickly.  I have also adjusted what I do when in order to maximize the things I like the most and expedite those I don’t.  Laundry on the line is such a good prayer time for me that I don’t want to rush through it.  So, I chose to work very swiftly in putting the clothes up, but I take my time bringing them down and folding each one as I put it in the basket.  The little diapers flapping on the line look so charming I’ve taken half a dozen pictures of them already.  Mom thinks I’m nuts.

She’s been invaluable to me.  She came for two days after Grandmom left in order to be here but not do anything.  Occasionally she’d speak up but she resisted the urge to jump in and help and just gave input.  It was wonderful.  I know it must have been terribly difficult not to pick up the babies and hold and cuddle them but she didn’t.  She was just there in case I needed her.

Mom also asked me about my recovery.  She was concerned that it’d take me longer to recuperate after the D&C (I need to look up what that means) but I think it actually helped.  When I came home from the hospital, I was able to quit using those huge paper pads and go back to my nice comfortable flannel ones.  Now, the only time I have any spotting is if I overdo something.

I’m wearing my early maternity clothes.  To be honest, I’m a little disgusted with them.  How can I still look so pregnant!  Isn’t it a bit ridiculous?  I’m already down five more pounds but that still leaves me at twenty pounds overweight.  I feel huge.  Chad says I’ve discovered American female vanity but honestly, I mostly object to the waste of perfectly good clothing in my closet and how difficult it is to wash dishes in my deep sink with all that blob around my gut.

I hear Lucas.  Right on schedule.  Time to eat and again, I didn’t take my nap as I should have.  Maybe if Chad gets home before he’s done, I’ll ask papa to feed Liam for me.

Chad whistled low as he read Willow’s take on those early weeks of motherhood.  To watch her now, she’d always done her work with a baby in one hand, and one nearby.  Her birthday was approaching fast.  He wanted to do something special for her twenty-fifth birthday but had no idea what to do.  At four months old, the little tykes were too small to be left overnight with his mother… or were they?  Perhaps…  He shook his head.  Forget Willow, he wasn’t ready to leave them.

Willow’s voice called him to dinner.  “Coming!”  He stepped inside the boy’s room, checked to see that they were still sleeping, and hurried downstairs.  Willow would have a list a mile long for them to try to get through in the next two days.

Omelets and muffins sat on the table but the kitchen was still cool from the night’s refreshing rain.  “Cook in the summer kitchen?”

“The little tykes have a harder time cooling off than we do.  I thought it’d be nice to keep the house cool for them today.”

“I was thinking of your birthday…”

“Me too.”

“Really?”  Chad had never seen her show much of an interest in the day.  From his reading of Kari’s journals, he’d decided it had started at her death because Kari wrote of birthdays as delightful holidays and special surprises.

“I wondered if maybe your mom—“

“Not leave the lads!”  He couldn’t believe it.  He’d been sure that she’d object even if he wanted to do it.

“Not really leave them.  I thought maybe we could get a nice room in the city.  Leave them with Grandmom and Granddad for a few hours, go get them, take them to your mother’s, stay for a while, leave them while we go get dinner and then maybe she or Cheri could bring them to us when it got time for their last feeding.”  She shook her head.  “No, that’s too late to ask—“

“She’d love it.  Mom’s been dying to have them again but she doesn’t want to butt in.  She’s really a little over careful after the last time she stepped on toes.”

Willow’s expression fell from pensive to dismay.  “I didn’t make her feel like—“

“No, Mom’s good at guilt when she gets on a roll.  She knows she was way out of line and she wants to stay on the straight and narrow so to speak.”

“We can go?”

“I’ll see if Caleb thinks Ben is ready to be responsible for all of the animals.  If not, we’ll have to see if Charlie might be willing to come out.”

“Ryder can come on a weekend.  He doesn’t care much for the animals but he’ll do it in a pinch.”  She polished off her eggs and popped the last bite of muffin in her mouth.  With eyes that reminded him of the Willow he’d discovered after those awful months of her deepest grief—a gleam of mischief glistening in one corner—she jumped up with a new spring in her step.  “Oh this’ll be so much fun!  Where should we go?  It’s silly to take the boys with us, isn’t it?  I mean, what on earth would they get out of a trip to the zoo at their age?  Or a museum… they wouldn’t get anything out of that.  Our dinner…”  She stood at the sink thinking as she mused aloud.

“They’ll just sleep through it.  Let the grandma’s have a turn with them and when they get two or three, we’ll take them.”

She spun in place, a huge grin on her face.  “We’re really going to the zoo!  I can show you the pandas.  They’re so huge!  And the penguins are so funny…”

Chad didn’t have the heart to remind her that he’d seen them many times.  He also made note that zoo was what she wanted the most.  “What about dinner?”

“I want an excuse for a new dress but I don’t want something stuffy like The Oaks.  Maybe we should stay and eat in Westbury.  It’d be less hassle…”

“That’ll work.”  He couldn’t resist a chance to tease.  “You know, Mom wouldn’t care if we just stayed there…”

Before she realized he was joking, Willow shook her head.  “But I thought it’d be nice—“  A glance at his twisted smile sent her eyes rolling.  “You’re just terrible.”

“And you like me that way.”

“I do.  Strange isn’t it?”  Willow snapped her dish towel at him as she left the kitchen to answer the call of her sons.  Lucas’ hearty wail informed her that the boys were hungry and most likely quite soggy.

***

“A picnic?”  The morning had been busy with basic chores but much less work than Chad had expected.

“I’ve worked hard all week fixing fences, weeding, picking, cleaning, laundering, and so forth so we could enjoy your day off.  Don’t you want a chance to prove your superiority as a fisherman or are you just scared you’ll be upstaged by a girl.”

“But you wanted to make a dress…”

Willow shook her head bemused.  Even as he’d spoken, he’d hurried up the stairs to retrieve his tackle box.  If she followed, which she couldn’t with one milk-drunk baby tucked into her crossed leg and the other happily nursing and working hard to ‘tie one on’ himself, she’d find him critically examining every fly he owned for the best ones before he grabbed the lot and went to change clothes.

A drawer banged.  There it was; he was changing.  He’d come down in swim trunks, holey t-shirt, and Rockland Warriors baseball cap.  He’d forget to put sunscreen on his ears and when the sun shifted, the tops would get red.  She needed to make him a fishing hat.  Her floppy sisal hat dropped onto her head.

“Thanks.  I worry about the amount of sun I get in this room…”

“Sandwiches?  Should I make some?”  Chad ignored her teasing.

“They’re in the ice box in the cellar.  We need to clean the kitchen box.  I didn’t get ice in it quickly enough and there’s mold in there.”

“Oh ugh.  I’ll do it.  You shouldn’t be breathing that stuff.”

“It’s just mold.  I’d have done it already but I need bleach and I’m out.”

Every time she ran out of something, Willow felt inadequate.  How had her mother noticed how much of everything to order and keep ahead of everything?  They’d been through so many bleach tablets since the boys were born.  She’d asked Chad to bring home bleach and he’d arrived with a bottle of liquid bleach.  It seemed horribly wasteful to her and she hadn’t asked again.

“I’ll bring some home—“

Willow bit her lip.  She had to say something.  “Chad, I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Why not?  We need it.  I don’t mind.”  A look at her face enlightened him—or so he assumed.  “It can’t be that much more expensive.  We’ll order right away but you need it in the meantime.”

“We don’t have room for plastic bottles and I can’t burn them.  We need to order tablets.  I can let it dry out in the meantime.”

“What about the boys’ diapers?”

She groaned.  The week she’d skipped bleach, the diapers had been dingy and a few of the stains hadn’t washed out properly.  “I guess.  Thanks.”

“I’ll take the empty bottles to Adric.  He’s a survivalist type.  He can fill them with water for his pantry.”

Changing subjects, Willow pointed to Liam.  “He’s about done.  Can you get the sandwiches and the cut fruit?  Oh, and there’s a jar of fruit tea down there.  Can you get that too?  I’ll get the—“

“You’ll sit there and hold my children.  What else do you want?”

In twice the time she thought it should take, they finally set off for her favorite fishing place.  Each of them carried a baby, a pole, and under Willow’s arm was a rolled up blanket and in her hand she held a bucket with most of their lunch in it..  Chad carried the tackle box in his ‘free hand’ while trying to juggle the baby and avoid whacking Willow with his pole.

Willow commented on how different this walk was from most of their fishing treks.  She started to complain that she missed walking hand in hand with him feeling that closeness and camaraderie when Chad dropped his pole.  “This is insane.  We should have brought the cart.”

“I could go get it if you’d like…”  Her lack of enthusiasm was not lost on him.

“You wait here.  I’ll go get it.”  Chad dropped everything but Lucas and hurried back to the barn.

“Hey, Liam and I are going to keep walking.”

All the way to the hole, Willow told Liam about her fishing dates with Bumpkin and how Othello was too noisy to bring.  “Saige was a good dog though.  She didn’t make much noise.”  Liam’s toothless grin was the baby’s only reply.

At her favorite tree, Willow was forced to lay the baby in the grass in order to spread out the blanket.  “Now I wonder if Mother did this all those years ago.  Do you think so little man?  I think she must have at least once.”  The blanket snapped in the breeze as she spread it out over the ground.  “There.  Now, we’ll just sit here and look cool and refreshed when your daddy arrives.  Do you think I should pour him something to drink?”

In spite of its rocky beginning, Willow’s picnic was exactly what they needed.  While the babies slept, they fished catching little in the midday sun, and they talked about everything from their expanded operations to further plans for her birthday.  Both of them would have stayed out there for hours but Liam’s diaper demanded a change, Lucas insisted that it was dinner time, and the magic of the afternoon was lost in the shuffle to make the boys happy again.

Late that night after babies slept curled next to each other in one corner of the crib across the hall, Chad brushed an escaped lock of hair from her face and tucked it into her braid.  “Thanks for the picnic, Lass.  Man I needed that.”

“It was refreshing, wasn’t it.  Made all that extra work this week worth it.”

“Don’t do that too often.  As much as I liked it, I don’t want a worn-out wife.”

“Yes m’lord.”

“Watch it, or I’ll start calling you Sarah.”

Her laughter, something he never tired of hearing, rang out before she clamped her hands over her mouth giggling.  “It’s like I don’t want to sleep or something.”

Seconds passed.  Willow thought Chad had fallen asleep and rolled over to get more comfortable.  His voice made her jump.  “What were you talking about earlier?  You said something about walking being different, but I dropped my pole.  I kept meaning to ask what you meant.”

“I just missed the way we used to be able to—“  Suddenly, she felt silly.  “Oh never mind.”

“No, what did you miss?”

“We just used to walk together.  I missed holding your hand and talking about things.  This time it was just different.  Not bad—different.”  She sighed.  “Is it terrible that I’m really looking forward to our time alone in the city?”

In that one sentence, Chad heard all she didn’t say and in the darkness that not even the moon reached, he grinned.  “From where I’m sitting—“

“Laying,” she corrected sleepily.

Conceding, he amended his statement.  “Laying, it sounds just about right.”

“Good.  Night.”

“Goodnight lass.”  Seconds ticked by before he added, “Goodnight John Boy.”

Chapter 139~

Babies slept in each arm as willow rested in the corner of the couch.  “Six days,” she thought to herself as she watched the babies sleeping.  Little milky mouths moved rhythmically in their sleep, while Willow cat napped between feedings.  She’d felt great when Colin and Cedric were first born, but the past twenty-four hours had been rough.  She was exhausted, achy, and Marianne insisted she get as much rest as possible to avoid mastitis.

“Want me to take one of them?”  Marianne’s voice near her ear nearly made her jump out of her skin.

“If you like.  They’re just sleeping though.”

“True, but you’d sleep better if you passed them to me and went upstairs to your bed.”

“Is it really possible to get mastitis if they’re draining me every time I feed them?”  Willow looked at her chest curiously.  It amazed her to see how much she grew between feedings- nearly an entire cup size sometimes.

“It is, and you don’t want it.  I remember the worst heaves ever with mastitis.”

Without further discussion, Willow stood, handed Colin to his doting grandmother, and carried Cedric to the stairs.  Marianne’s voice stopped her.  “Willow, I’m really not trying to take over, interfere, or all of those other ugly mother-in-law things but don’t you think you’ll sleep better if you just go up by yourself?  I can keep them both content for a while and then bring them to you when they get hungry.”

“It just feels so- so- well, like I’m using you.”

“That’s what I’m here for, though.  I won’t always be able to do it, but I can now.”  As she spoke, Marianne laid Colin down in the little Moses basket she’d purchased and reached for Cedric.  “I’ll bring them the minute they demand their lunch.”

Willow’s yawn betrayed her.  She gave Marianne a sheepish look, hugged her, kissed her son, and climbed the stairs slowly.  If rest was essential to recovery, she’d rest.  Never, not even those last weeks of pregnancy or the early weeks of her leg injury, had Willow ever tired so easily as she did now.  A trip up the stairs to the bathroom made her hungry and sleepy both.

However, much to Marianne’s amazement and Chad’s amusement, she’d already managed to embroider initials on sleeper feet to help differentiate between her boys.  She had an unreasonable fear of mixing up who was whom until she’d finally taken a permanent marker to each boy’s right foot.  Carol and Marianne both were certain that they’d be permanently tattooed if she continued to mark them that way but Willow didn’t care.  She wanted to know which child was which.  Chad, David, and Christopher all thought the initials were a great joke, but none of them sympathized with her.  In their opinion, it didn’t matter if the boys got switched a time or two.  No one would be the wiser.

Upstairs, Willow grabbed her journal and started an entry before she fell asleep.

March-

The babies are already on a slight schedule thanks to Mom’s excellent diversionary tactics.  She managed to convince them to eat every two and a half hours and she staggered their sleep times by half an hour giving me a chance to feed one thoroughly before the second woke up and opened the floodgates with his little cries.

I already can tell Cedric’s cry.  He has more volume.  If both are crying, I know who is whom just by the cry alone.  Chad says I’m crazy but so far, I’ve been right every time.  Colin is quieter but much more persistent.  He’ll fuss and cry until he gets what he wants but Cedric just lets out a huge fuss and then goes back to sleep in disgust if we don’t meet his needs quickly enough.  Fortunately, (or is it unfortunately?) he wakes up again quickly and repeats the performance.

I’ve never eaten so much food in my life.  It is unreal how much I eat and how often.  I am eating almost as frequently as I was those last weeks of pregnancy but instead of a quarter of a sandwich, I eat the whole thing.  Chad mocks me but Mom hits him with a pillow and tells him I need nourishment to feed the babies.  I think she’s afraid I’ll feel bad about how much I’m eating or that I’m worried about gaining more weight.  Maybe she’s worried that Chad is worried about me gaining more weight.  I don’t know.  I think it’s all very funny.  It seems the more I eat, the more the babies eat, and the thinner my face, ankles, and hands get.  My stomach isn’t anywhere near flat again… I think I still look like I’m several months pregnant, but I can tell that I’m already smaller than I was when I left the hospital.  I should remember to get on the scale.  I wonder how long it’ll take me to get rid of those extra thirty pounds?  I gained six pounds that last week!

After much prayer and a bit of last minute panic, we finally chose names for the boys two days after we brought them home.  Chad drove us back to the hospital to fill out the birth certificate the next day.  Christopher Colin and David Cedric were named after four very special people in our lives.  However, since we have a Christopher and a Chris, and now Granddad David is in our lives, we decided to call them by their middle names.  I never imagined it’d be so hard to name children.  With all of the amazing and wonderful names out there, who would expect choosing two (I can’t imagine how parents narrow it even further to just one!) names would be so difficult.

Chad loved the disposable diapers we had for the first few days.  It was comical how he’d try to sell me on forgetting the washable ones I’d made and sticking to the little paper thingies they gave us at the hospital.  I admit, I did like them those first few days when that tar-like mess was coming.  I can’t imagine trying to wash that sticky stuff out, but once it was gone, I put the dozen or so paper ones we had left in the van for trips and pulled out my super soft flannel ones.  Chad thought we were out and bought another package.  He was sure I’d prefer them after using mine for a few changes but I just didn’t understand why I’d want those smelly things laying around for weeks until he had time to run them to the dump.  We can’t burn them but I think he’d forgotten that.  I finally just used up the paper ones—I think he thought I conceded his superior wisdom, but I made sure that I asked him to take them to the garbage.  After four days, he didn’t really like the smell in there.  We ran out yesterday and he’s been to town twice.  No new paper diaper packages came home with him and he took out the last load of cloth to be washed just before he went to work.  I think he’s decided that washing isn’t as bad as composting uncompostable diapers.

I should be sleeping instead of writing.  I do feel weak… very tired.  I almost feel chilled.  Maybe we’re going to get that storm after all.  I wonder if I should close the window.

Willow closed the journal, pulled the covers over her, curled onto her side, and was asleep almost instantaneously.  Downstairs, Marianne rocked babies, changed diapers, and did everything in her power to keep the boys happy as long as possible before carrying Cedric upstairs for his noon snack.

***

“Chad.  I think you should come home.  I also think you should call Dr. Kline.”

“What’s wrong, Mom?”  Chad pointed to a couple of teenagers loitering near the Farmer’s Market and motioned for them to move away from there.

“Willow is burning up.   I don’t know if it’s normal or not but I can’t help but worry about infection.”

“She seemed fine this morning.  Are you sure she’s not just over tired?”  Chad shifted his phone and took a bag of groceries from Mrs. Hayfield, carrying it the three blocks to her house as he listened to his mother’s concerns.  “Well Mom, if you think so, I can see if the Chief’ll let me come home but-“

“This is your wife Chad!  We’re talking about postpartum infection—or the probability of it.”

“I’m calling the chief now, Mom.  Take a deep breath.  We’ll bring her in to see Dr. Weisenberg.  Actually, can you bring her in?  I could meet you there—“

“I couldn’t get her in the car.  I know I couldn’t.  She needs help getting dressed…”

“Ok.  I’m coming.”

Chad snapped his phone shut with more force than necessary.  “Sorry Mrs. Hayfield.  My mother is a little over concerned about my wife.”

“Mastitis?”  The elderly woman noticed the impatience on Chad’s face.  He seemed so young…  “That can wear a woman down faster than anything.”

“Mom didn’t say.  She just said infection.”

“Probably mastitis.  Better get her seen.  I’ve seen it turn ugly and fast.”

Chad nodded, put the groceries on her counter, and waved goodbye.  “Have a good day Mrs. Hayfield.”

“I’ll light a candle for her at Mass tonight, Chad.”

“Thank you.”  Chad didn’t know what that meant, but it seemed like a thoughtful gesture.

A call to the Chief gave him permission to take his wife to the ER.  Chad drove home more than a little irritated at being interrupted on his first day back at work for something so nebulous.  His mom knew what mastitis was.  If that was the problem, why didn’t she just say so?  It seemed ridiculous.

One look at Willow changed his mind completely.  Her forehead and hairline were damp with perspiration, her pajama top clung to her body, and she whimpered at his touch.  “Oh mom!  What’s wrong with her?”

“I don’t know!  She says she’s not tender and I looked—no read streaks or anything to indicate mastitis.  That’s how mine looked anyway.  Angry red streaks.”

He struggled to carry her downstairs and laid her on the back seat of the van.  For a moment, he debated between bringing his mother and the babies or keeping them home.  “Those places are full of germs.  I’ll call you if she needs to feed them.  If they get hungry before that, just warm up some of the goats milk.  The doctor seems to think it’s fine or I think maybe they sent home formula samples.  Use that.  Either one.  I don’t care.”

He drove as fast as he safely could to town, and then nearly climbed the van walls as he crawled through the streets to the clinic.  Sarah Malia met him at the van with a wheelchair.  “Your mother called.  She said maybe mastitis?  This is a bad fever for mastitis.  Did you take her temp?”

“No. I don’t think so.  Well, I didn’t.  Mom might have—“   Chad’s voice rambled nonsensically as he followed along side Willow watching her with concern.

Dr. Weisenberg, busy with a broken arm (Aiden Cox was mighty glad he’d worn his helmet this time), stitches for a toddler’s split lip, and a possible appendicitis case, started her immediately on simple amoxicillin, had the nurse check for signs of mastitis, and an hour later, walked into the room to examine her himself.  “Sarah doesn’t think it’s mastitis—no tenderness of the breasts, no streaks, but her temperature was over one hundred three so we’re looking at something infectious.  I’ve got a call into Dr. Kline.”

For the next hour he examined, consulted, and finally wheeled her to the lab for an ultrasound where they found the culprit.  “She’s retained a blood clot that won’t pass.  It’s too big.”

“Is that dangerous?”

“Well, it’s not good of course, but we’ll get it out and she’ll be just fine.”  At the look on Chad’s face, Dr. Wiesenberg smiled reassuringly.  “Son, this isn’t uncommon with twins—can happen with any birth but you have twice the chance of little complications when you have twice the babies.  It’s ok.  We’re going to take good care of her.”

“Should I have Mom bring in the babies to eat?”

“That’d be about perfect.  By the time we get everything ready for the D&C, they’d be about done and we don’t want her missing any more feedings than absolutely necessary.”

“Does she have to stay overnight?”  Chad knew Willow wasn’t going to like that.

“It’d probably be best considering the infection.”

He sighed.  “Ok.  I’ll call Mom.  Thanks.”

***

The next afternoon, Chad brought his wife and children home from the hospital.  Again.  Already, she looked a hundred percent better than she had the previous afternoon.  To save her the stress of walking up the stairs, Chad arranged her porch swing exactly how she liked it, brought the Moses basket out there to keep the babies close, and tucked her in for another nap.

“I’ve got to get in and relieve Joe.  He’s been covering for me all day and he’s got the late shift.  Mom’s taking a nap on the couch so just yell if you need anything.”

Exhausted, Willow murmured something unintelligible and drifted into semi-consciousness.  Portia sat next to the swing as though awaiting orders.  Chad pointed to his wife and children and then took the dog’s face in his hands.  Staring into the animal’s eyes, he entreated her to be on guard.  “Watch them, girl.  Watch them for me.  I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

He hurried down the steps and to his truck.  One last glance at the porch showed Portia, head laying on her outstretched paws, body alert and watchful.  The coloring was all wrong, the location as opposite as the farm offered, but something about her guard over his wife and children reminded Chad of how faithfully Othello had kept watch over Kari’s grave.  Nothing else could be more different and so similar simultaneously.

“Lord, I am blessed.  Did you know that?  Of course You do.  How stupid of me,” Chad muttered as he drove toward town.

Chapter 138~ Labor (adding as I write)

At a quarter past seven, Chad finally burst through the emergency room door, his gun holster still strapped to his belt, his heavy jacket covered with snow, and eyes blazing with frustration.  “It’s a nightmare out there,” he muttered as he rushed down hallways, through doorways, and finally into Willow’s room.

“Hey, Lass.”  His entire demeanor changed as he sought his wife’s side.  “How are you doing?”

Marianne slipped from the room and David started to follow but Willow’s hand shot out and grabbed him.  “You said you wouldn’t go.”

“But Chad’s here now.”  Willow’s eyes pleaded with him not to leave.  David saw the pain and confusion in Chad’s eyes and bent low.  “Willow, you’re hurting Chad.  He’s been trying to get to you to be here for you.  I’ll go call Carol, get a cup of coffee, use the restroom, and be waiting outside the door inside five minutes.  All you have to do is have Chad come get me and I’ll be right back.”

David’s eyes met Chad’s and spoke volumes.  Chad, uncertain about what to do, dropped her hand and smiled.  “I’ll be back in two seconds.  I just have to ask the nurse a question.”

Outside the door, he threw David an indiscernible look.  “What’s going on in there?”

“It was bad Chad.  Very, very bad.  I think she just latched onto me because I was there.”

“Well I tried to be!”  Chad stuffed his hands in his pockets.  “I don’t understand.”

“She’s reliving Kari’s labor I think.  She’s hurting, and now she’s just received a little relief.”  David squeezed Chad’s shoulder.  “She needs help.  Not just physically, right now the worst of it thanks to that epidural, is emotional.  She’s barely hanging in there.”

Nodding, Chad hurried back into the room and seeing his uniform reflected in Willow’s eyes, picked up the phone.  “Hey Joe, I need you to come get my belt.  I can’t leave Willow and I forgot-  Oh, good idea.  Thanks.”

“Ok, Lass.  How are we doing.  What did the doctor say?”

“About thirty minutes ago or so I was half way there.”  Her voice sounded weak and exhausted.

“You ok?  You look so pale.  I’m so sorry it took so long to get here.  Brad is kicking himself for bungling this.”

“Tell him it’s ok.  Grandfather was here.  I was fine.”

“You’re angry with me.”  It wasn’t a question.

“Of course not.  I’m just glad you’re here.”

They were interrupted by Dr. Kline.  “Oh Chad.  I’m very glad to see you here.  So, how are you doing now, Willow?”

“Much better.  Much.  I feel twinges every now and then but the pain- the real pain, is gone.”

Chad cringed for his wife as the doctor watched the monitor, waited for a contraction, and then did an internal check.  “Well, for some people, epidurals seem to speed up labor a little but I think you’re one of the majority.  Still at five.  Sorry.”

“At least it isn’t as painful,” she whispered weakly.

“I want you to try to sleep.  I need you to get as much rest as humanly possible so that you are rested for pushing.  We want to avoid that c-section if we can.”

“Can she eat?  She hasn’t been able to keep much food down at a time so I’m thinking that after five and a half hours, she must be hungry.”  Chad’s voice sounded almost imploring but his eyes demanded help for his wife.

“Sorry.  No.  There is such a very real chance of a c-section that we can’t risk food in her system if we need to put her under for surgery.  We can add a bit of glucose to her IV in order to keep up her strength.”

Before Chad could say anything else, a nurse came into the room.  “Officer Tesdall, there’s an officer out here for you?”

“That’ll be someone from Brunswick.  They’re going to take my gun for me.  I can’t believe I brought it in.”

Dr. Kline watched as Chad left and then looked at Willow sternly.  “I overheard him out there talking to your grandfather.  He’s hurting.  He feels rejected.  If you don’t want him in here, say something now before it gets any worse.”

“Of course I want him in here.  I just- I need Grandfather too.”

“Why?”

“He didn’t get to help Mother.  He had to read about her being all alone.  He felt rejected and helpless.  He was helping me and he was good at it.  I think he needs that.”

“Tell your husband Willow,” Dr. Kline advised.  “He needs to know you’re not rejecting him but rather accepting your grandfather.”

Chad’s entrance stopped Willow’s exhausted response.  “Chad?”

He hurried to do something, anything, to make her more comfortable.  He’d thought about twice the pushing, twice the nursing, twice the diapers and sleepless nights but he hadn’t imagined twice the pain.  Willow had a strong threshold for pain but according to the nurse Sandi, she’d been out of her mind with agony.

1. What can I do?  Do you want your grandfather back?   I can go get him.”

“I do Chad, but not before we have a few minutes alone.  I missed you.  I needed you.”

“I’m so sorry.”  Chad felt like a heel.  “I didn’t know-“

“No, I’m not accusing.  I just need you to know how important it is to me that you’re here.  I’m not asking for Grandfather because he’s more important to me right now.  I’m asking because helping me is important to him right now.  Do you understand?”

The light of understanding dawned in his eyes.  “Of course.  I’ll go get him.”  He turned to leave but she caught his hand.  “Can’t you even give me a hello kiss before you rush off to bring other men into my life?”

***

Around midnight, things grew intense.  Dilation was at eight, Willow’s exhaustion was evident to everyone who entered the room.  Marianne came in from time to time to brush her hair, clean her face, and give the men a chance for more coffee.  Carol sat quietly in the corner praying like she’d never prayed before, and Cheri paced outside the door like a father from the forties.

The men, however, rarely left her side.  David sat next to the bed kneading her shoulders, adding pressure to her back, and whispering encouragement.  Sometimes he sang, others he was silent- trying to disappear into the background so that Willow and Chad could spend this special time together.  He was relieved to see the pain that had been etched in her eyes replaced with fatigue.  As much as he’d love for her to be at her best, tired was better than tormented in his opinion.

Chad, once he got past seeing his vibrant wife pummeled by labor, was like a rock.  He sat at the head of the bed and supported her as she reclined for maximum lung capacity.  He talked to her about names, about plans, and about his day- anything to keep her distracted.  At one point, he gently rubbed her arms.  Immediately, he realized his mistake.  Willow’s hand involuntarily jerked upwards and gave him a lovely bloody nose in 2.3 seconds flat.

The nurses from then on called her slugger and joked about reporting her for spousal abuse.  Chad promised to fill out the forms next time he went to work.  Just before one o’clock, the new night nurse, Wanda, strolled in and with the tact and gentleness of a back alley dentist checked for dilation and turned to leave the room.  “Can you tell us where she is?”

“She’s at nine.  At her rate, she’ll be there for a few more hours so get some sleep.  She’s got work ahead of her and then motherhood.  This is her last chance to get some rest without someone interrupting it every two minutes.”

Just as the woman barged through the door in search of another victim to invade, the blood pressure cuff went off automatically.  “She’s joking, right?”  Willow’s shocked expression mirrored Chad and David’s.

“How is that woman still employed.  She has the bedside manner of a bull in Pamplona.”

“That’s insulting,” Willow retorted angrily.

“I call them like I see them Willow.”

“I still feel sorry for the bull.”

Before the men stopped laughing, Dr. Kline came through the door.  “I thought I saw Wanda leaving.  I’ve never known her to be all that-“ he paused searching for the right word.  “Funny.”

“She’s not but Willow is.”  David brushed damp tendrils from Willow’s head.

“Can we request that she not be allowed in this room again?”  Chad didn’t even attempt to hide his fury.  “I will not have that woman attacking my wife again.”

“She attacked-“

“I can still feel where her fingernails raked me.”  Willow’s whimper was barely audible but the pain in her tone was unmistakable.

“She won’t check you again.  I’ll talk to her.  Until delivery I’ll keep her out but she’s who I want during pushing.  She’s the best delivery nurse around.  If we end up in the OR, I want her here.”

“OR?”

“Operating Room,” the three men said simultaneously.

“Why the OR?”

“Sometimes the second baby needs to be taken cesarean.  I told you that.”

At one-thirty Barb the Bubbly came in and checked her shaking her head sympathetically at their eager expressions.  At two, she returned but still no progress.  By three-thirty they were all growing antsy.  Dr. Kline entered at four o’clock and rearranged her.  She sat up a slight bit straighter, legs drawn up closer, and as the next contraction came, he gave her one last exam.  “If I just do a little stretching…”  He smiled at Willow and gave the men a slightly bloody thumb’s up.  “Dilation complete.  Time to push.  I can feel your body bearing down already.”

“Baby is coming?”  The hopefulness in Willow’s voice touched the hearts of the doctor and Willow’s family alike.

“Babies are coming.”

***

“Come on, Lass.  You can do it. “  Chad held her hands, supported her shoulders, and found himself straining with her through each push.  He’d have hemorrhoids before they were done if he wasn’t careful.

The room was dimly light, a light at the end of the bed for the doctor’s benefit but the lights by Willow’s head were out and the overhead lights were off.  Marianne, Carol, Cheri, David, and Christopher all stood outside the door plastered against the wall listening to Willow as she moaned, groaned, and screamed throughout each contraction.  Chad alone sat at her side glaring between contractions at nurse Wanda at Dr. Kline’s side.

After the first ineffectual push, Dr. Kline turned down the epidural drip leaving her with more feeling and much less comfort.  The pain, however bad it might have been, was nothing like her initial contractions.  She handled each one as it came, stayed on top of it, and then relaxed between them prepared for the next before it hit.  It seemed as though she’d finally found her groove and was ready to take on this business of birthing babies.

By five, she’d been pushing for forty-five minutes and the head was just beginning to crown.  By five- thirty, Dr. Kline was ready.  “Ok, this next one, push hard.  I mean hard.  I want you to push like your life depended on it.  It doesn’t.  You’re both fine.  But push like it anyway.”

The contraction began and this time, Willow felt it before Dr. Kline announced. She grabbed the rails of the ‘bed’ and practically pulled herself up off the bed.  She pushed with every ounce of strength she had until she was sure her organs would explode out of her.  A new sensation began building slowly.  In her exhausted state, it took a minute to recognize what was happening but suddenly she exclaimed, “It’s burning!  Is it supposed to be burning!”

“Keep pushing Willow.  Don’t stop now.  That head is coming and…”  On and on the doctor went, encouraging, urging, demanding, and consoling when the head slipped back into the canal.  “It’s ok.  That happens sometimes.  Next time it’ll come through.  Take a deep breath- Chad, get her some ice.  Now let’s get ready because I think the next one is almost here.  Come on…”

Several minutes passed as they waited through the next contraction before she pushed.  Her body was growing tired and she didn’t have it in her to start back up again but as the next contraction built, she was ready.  As the contraction peaked, she bore down with everything she could and the head was born.  “We’ve got a darling head of blonde fussy hair!  Get ready for the next contraction Willow.  Take a breath- no stop pushing.  Just relax until the next one.”

“I feel constipated!” she shrieked.  “I want it out of there!”  Before the doctor could respond she gave one more strong push and nearly sent the baby flying into the doctor’s hands.

“Well?  Is he, she, it ok?”

“Don’t call our baby an it,” Willow snapped.  The next contraction was already building.

The nurse felt for the baby’s head and nodded at Dr. Kline as he clamped the cord and offered for Chad to cut it.  Chad shook his head violently.  “You get it.  Thanks.”

Barb was in the corner working over the baby making Chad very nervous.  Dr. Kline and Wanda checked Willow’s vitals, watched the monitor, and felt for the baby’s head while Barb suctioned out the baby, cleaned it up, and wrapped it in a blanket.  The child’s wails drove Willow nearly insane as the next contraction built.  “Someone pick up my baby and comfort it!”

“It?”

Willow whacked Chad again restarting the blood flow she’d begun earlier.  “Ohhhh it’s coming!”

For the next few minutes, things were a blur.  Willow pushed, the doctor encouraged, and Chad prayed more fervently than he’d ever prayed in his life.  He could see Willow’s strength fading quickly and if this baby took half as long to push out as the last…

Dr. Kline saw the sack bulge and ripped it away from the head.  “Ok, there’s the head.  You did very well Willow.  One more push and it’ll be over.  You can do it.  Take a deep breath, exhale.  Come on, exhale.  Do it again, you want to get some good air in those lungs before you start pushing again.  Chad get her some ice.  Barbara, how is baby one doing?”  Dr. Kline kept talking without a break, change of tone, or anything to indicate that things had changed.

The next contraction built and with a fraction of the effort expended to deliver the first baby, the second slipped from the birth canal into the doctor’s waiting hands.  The room erupted in laughter when Willow sighed, “Oh that felt good.”

“Good?  You’ve got to be kidding me Lass!  I saw your face.  That was torture.”

“No, not the whole thing,” she gasped.  “Just that last two or three seconds when the body slipped through.  It felt like I’d been holding my bladder for nine months and I finally got to go.  Oh man, that was almost worth the pain by itself.”  She looked at her stomach critically.  “You know, it’s a lot smaller- a lot smaller.  But are you sure there isn’t another baby in there?”

***

The next hour was a blur in everyone’s memories.  Contrary to Willow’s concerns, there wasn’t another baby in her womb.  However, she did have two good sized placentas to deliver before she was able to hold her children.  As she accepted the first baby from Barb’s arms, she realize she still didn’t know if they had boys, girls, or one of each.  “Is he a he or a she?”

“Boys.  You have two very healthy boys.”

“I got my boys Chad!” Willow said, her eyes filling with tears.  “I always thought I’d have two boys and I do!  I have sons.  I can’t believe that I have sons!”

Chad, overcome by the beauty of the infant in his arms, stood, walked to the door, and beckoned the family waiting there.  “Come see the lads.  You’ve got to see them.”

Wanda huffed and muttered something about visiting hours but Dr. Kline sent her from the room.  “Barb can handle it, I need you with Mrs. Pham.”

“She’s supposed to have a nurse for each baby, Dr. Kline.”

“Bethany is on her way in.  They’ll call if they need help.  I need you with me.”

1. Which one is he?”

“The hospital band says.  I’ve got baby two so you have baby one.”

“They’re not identical are they?” Christopher suddenly had visions of mixing the children and for some reason that bothered him immensely.

“No.  Fraternal but you can’t tell right now, can you.  I think they look identical.”

“No they don’t,” Willow argued.  “Baby one’s head is longer than two.  He looks like he’s wearing a stove pipe hat.”

“That’s just because he was in the birth canal for a longer time. It shapes the head.  In a day or two it’ll be fine.”

Chad whispered something to Chris before taking his son back from Cheri and sitting next to Willow with him.  “It seems strange to realize that he’s a firstborn.”

Sleepy, the babies hardly moved as the family played musical infant passing them around until Chad realized Willow still hadn’t held her second son.  “Ok, Willow’s turn.”

David brought the second child to Willow’s side and whispered something in her ear.  She nodded, a grateful look in her eyes, and whispered, “Thanks.  I’d appreciate it.  I can’t tell you-“

Once again, David whispered something in her ear causing Willow to smile.  “I love you, Grandfather.”

“If you love me you’ll call me anything but that.  I’d even take Granddad…”

“Granddad it is.  I love you.  Thank you.”

Chad watched amused as David Finley rounded up the inhabitants of the room and pushed them from the room insisting that Chad and Willow needed time alone with their children.  Barb bustled around the room cleaning, adjusting Willow’s medication, kneading her uterus, but somehow without intruding into the new little family’s time.  Chad watched as Willow counted fingers, toes, and double checked to see for herself that she really was the proud mother of sons.

“What did your granddad say, Lass?”

“He said thank you for letting him be a part of this.  He said to tell you he hopes you don’t feel displaced but that it was very healing for him.”

“I need to thank him for being there with you.  I can’t imagine how horrible it would have been- you could have been alone just like your mother-“

“I would have called Lily, or Aunt Libby, or someone who could get here fast.  I was in too much pain- it was bad Chad.  It was the worst thing-“

“Shh… look at them.  The worst brought the best.  It’s over and just beginning all at once.”

Chapter 137- Labor (adding as I write…)

“I have three and a half more weeks.”

David Finley looked at his granddaughter and wondered how she could possibly hold out another minute much less another twenty-four days.  “Are you comfortable?”

Even as he spoke, Willow shifted in her seat trying to give her lungs any kind of relief from the constant pressure.  “When I’m standing, I can breathe but I get tired quickly.  When I’m sitting I don’t feel like I’m about to tip over and my back doesn’t ache but then I feel as though I’m drowning out of water.”

“Have you considered asking them to induce your labor?”

She shook her head.  “The doctor mentioned it when Chad was concerned about my feet swelling but we all agreed that as long as I’m healthy and the babies aren’t in any kind of distress, the longer they’re in there, the better in the long run.”

Eager to show him her progress in learning the camera, Willow pulled Chad’s laptop from the bookshelf in the library and brought it to the coffee table, swaying a bit as she stood upright again.  “Oh I hate it when I get off balance.  It feels so weird,” she muttered as she punched the button for the screen to come on.

“It is very strange to be watching a laptop boot up by candlelight,” David remarked amused.

“I guess it is.  I hadn’t thought of that.”

“You wouldn’t, I suppose,” he agreed smiling.  His granddaughter looked so much like his mother and yet he’d seen pictures of Lynne Solari and the resemblance between them was uncanny.  How could two women who looked nothing alike have a granddaughter that clearly resembled both of them?

“How is Grandmother?  Is she over the flu yet?”

“Just a slight residual cough.  This is the first time she’s gotten the flu from the shot but she says it isn’t as bad as getting it without one so I guess we’ll keep getting them.”

“Well, I’m glad she’s better.  I could have these babies any time and she promised to come sit with Mom and hold them while I sleep.  I plan to get lots of sleep when I get half a chance.”

“She’s all ready to go.  Has a bag packed as if she was having the babies herself.  She even has one of those journals you made her all ready to write down her first thoughts as a great grandmother.”  He paused.  “You know, she’s been writing down everything she can remember that has happened since we lost your mother.  She wrote about Kyle’s graduation, his marriage, the grandchildren, everything.  It has been amazing to see all that has happened in our lives.”

“You read it?”

He blushed.  “Well, she said I could…”

“Chad reads mine several times a week usually.  It’s a great way for us to make sure that he knows what is going on around here.  His hours mean that sometimes things happen that I thought I told him and then wham, nope.  I didn’t.”  She blushed.  “Like yesterday.  He came home ready to butcher the chickens but I’d already done over the past three days.  Boy was he relieved.”

“He doesn’t like butchering?”

“Not chickens!”

Something didn’t make sense to David.  “What, not that I’m not interested mind you, but what does that have to do with the journals?”

“Oh, I keep doing that,” she muttered exasperatedly.  “He came in to ask me about it but I was sleeping so he opened my animal journal and saw how many I butchered, how I prepared them, and who we should call to have them come get them.  He made calls instead which is fine by me.  I really do not like the phone.”

“Carol mentioned something about that the other day.”

“I didn’t realize I’d told her.  Keeping in touch with her is so important to me that I’d never imagine not using the phone.”

“Oh she just said that you always seemed more at ease in your letters or when she visits.”

“I feel guilty sometimes,” Willow confessed, “for not coming more often.  She must get tired of the drive.”

“Actually, I think she enjoys it.”

1. David followed her to the kitchen where David watched the process all over again.

“It’s work just keeping the house warm, isn’t it?”

“It’s a good work.  It feels good to accomplish something so important with such ease.  I mean, I spend two minutes and our house stays warm and toasty for a couple of hours.  It’s really quite amazing.  I’ll be back down.  It’s time to light the upstairs stove.”

Watching her climb the stairs was more painful than he could have imagined.  She looked like she was twelve months pregnant and carrying triplets both.  She’d given up trying to wear anything remotely attractive and settled for house gowns that hung from the shoulders and covered her.

These visits were hard for him.  He came because it was right and because he loved his daughter.  Whatever mistakes she’d made, she’d done it to spare them.  She’d sacrificed her happiness and ease in order to protect them and he worked hard to remember that but unlike his wife, Willow wasn’t a link to Kari, she was the thing that had ultimately torn Kari from them.  While he didn’t blame Willow per se, he did find it hard to connect with her across the chasm that Kari’s disappearance created.

He glanced at his watch.  Twenty-five minutes.  Surely he could leave in another twenty minutes.  After all, he was just stopping in after a business meeting.  It wasn’t a typical social call.  She wouldn’t expect him to stay for dinner; would she?

Suddenly, a cry sent David flying up the stairs faster than he’d imagined he could move.  The sight of her leaning against the woodstove, her palms flat against the metal alarmed him until he realized the door was open and there were no flames inside.  “Are you ok?”

“Towel,” she gasped.  “Please.  Cupboard behind me.”

He grabbed a fluffy white towel and passed it to her.  “What’s wrong?”

“Can you call Chad?  I need him to come home.”  Her knees buckled for a moment before sheer willpower forced them straight again.  “Now,” she growled before a low moan escaped.

“Where do I call?  What’s his number?”

To her utter frustration, she couldn’t remember.  Numbers swirled before her eyes but the pain of squatting to clean up the flood of water around her ankles pushed the right combination from her consciousness.  “I don’t know.  Station.  Call the station.”

Within minutes, the message was relayed and David informed that Chad was in court and his cell phone off but they’d send someone in to get him.  “He’ll come soon Willow.  What can I do?”

“Help me downstairs.  Please.  I don’t think I can do it by myself.”

The trip downstairs was slow and tedious.  Every step left her gasping and panting for air until David was certain she’d give birth in the living room.  Once she reached the bottom, Willow sent him back upstairs for fresh towels to sit on.  Every errand, no matter how small, sent him racing to help until there was nothing left for him to do but wait for Chad to arrive.  All ideas of leaving were gone now.  There was no way he’d leave her alone like this.  His daughter had been alone in labor but his granddaughter would be spared that pain if it was the last thing he did.

She whimpered with another pain causing his heart to contract with it.  “Would it help if I rubbed your shoulders?”

Willow shook her head and then hesitated.  “Um-“

“What, sweetheart.  What can I do?  I want to help if I can.”

“My lower back.  It’s what really hurts.  Would you rub that?”

One hand pushed stray tendrils away from her damp forehead while the other rubbed her lower back until he thought it’d go numb.  Somehow, he found the exact spot she needed for him to apply firm pressure and the relief was almost instantaneous.

“Oh that feels good.”

“When this hand gets tired, I’ll move to your other side and use the other one.”  He passed her the glass.  “Drink Willow.  You need your strength.”

“I can’t,” she gasped as a new pain began.  “I can’t until I’m on my way to the hospital.  I can’t get back up those stairs to use the bathroom.”

“You need another one down here.”

“That’s what Chad keeps saying.  Like I’ve got time to clean two of them.”  The edge in her voice told him she was nearing the peak of the contraction.

“Would you like me to get you a wet wash cloth for your forehead?”

She nodded, whimpered, and slumped over the couch pillow clutched to her chest.  “Thank you.”

For thirty minutes, he held her, rocked her, sang the songs he’d sang to Kari as a little girl, and wiped the perspiration from her face.  For thirty minutes he endured the pain from the side of one who can do nothing to alleviate it.  He kissed her temples, rubbed her hands, massaged her back, and even brushed her hair when she asked.

With each minute that passed, she grew more and more anxious calling- no crying- for Chad as each contraction built upon the last until she thought she’d go insane with agony.  Nothing she’d ever endured prepared her for the sheer torture of those contractions.  She’d read about breathing, practiced religiously, and prepared for focusing to ensure minimal discomfort in the beginning stages of labor but to no avail.  Either the contractions she was experiencing were worse than most people’s early labor or her pain tolerance level had dropped to negative numbers.  She truly didn’t want to know which it was.

Finally, she looked into her grandfather’s concerned eyes and begged to be taken into the hospital.  “We can call Chad, leave a note- I don’t care.  Please take me now.  Please.  I don’t think I can drive it.”

1. She didn’t know.

A wheelchair wheeled out from the emergency room doors and met them at the car.  Willow’s surprise was evident.  “I called ahead and told them I was coming.  I’ll be right in after I park ok?  You’ll be ok?”  David’s concern was touching.

“I’ll be fine.”  She gasped.  “Thank you, Grandfather.  Thank you.”

“We’ve got to work on this title thing.  Be right back.”

Inside the hospital, they wheeled her down corridors, into a labor room, and onto a bed that seemed little more than a table to Willow’s way of thinking.  From that moment on, her images of labor changed irrevocably.  Starting with the IV, baby monitors, and internal checks that nearly sent her through the roof in pain, it moved to a quick ultrasound to check baby positions, Demerol for the pain, and occasional vomiting that neither she nor David understood.

David, on the other hand, was familiar with the ideas of modern labor but felt utterly helpless to do anything to comfort his granddaughter.  He tried joking but they fell flat.  He sang until he grew hoarse, and finally wrapped a hand around hers and told her to squeeze whenever she needed relief.  He recognized his mistake immediately.  Willow’s strength was foolishly unexpected.  He should have known she’d be able to break a thumb- or an arm.

“Sorry,” she gasped as another wave hit her.  “Where is Chad?”

“They said he’s coming as soon as they tell him.  Carol’s on the way too.”

“Mom Tesdall is on the contact information.  Can you call her?”

He rose to go and she gripped his arm even tighter.  “Where are you going?”

“Do you want me to go?”

Illogically, Willow whimpered and shook her head.  “Don’t leave me.  I don’t know how Mother did this all alone.  Please-“  Her words were cut short with a cry of pain.

Her nurse, Sandi, rushed into the room surprised to hear her growing louder so quickly.  “You doin’ ok sweetie?”

“No.”  Before Willow could answer, David’s answer cut the air.  “Do something for her.  She’s the strongest, healthiest young woman I’ve ever seen.  If she’s hurting this badly, do something.”

“I’ll call Dr. Kline.”  She paused by David’s side.  “Have you heard from her husband?”

“No.”

“How long since the contractions started?”

“Water broke at two o’clock almost on the nose.  I heard the clock chime about the time I grabbed her a towel.”

“Two hours.  Hmmm.”

“If you could call the emergency contact number- Mrs. Tesdall can get in touch with her son better than I can.”

David helped Willow from the bed and hung her arms over his shoulders.  Pulling the IV pole with them, he slowly backed around the room hoping what had helped Sheryl would work for Willow.  Their shuffling traveled very little distance around the room but she seemed to like the change.  Her head flopped against his chest as she struggled through another contraction.  “Grandfather,”

“Oh we have to find something else for you to call me.”

“Not now.  You smell good.  Like pine and soap.”

His deep chuckle reminded her of Chad’s when Chad was amused with her.  “I’m glad you approve.”

“I want my babies to recognize that scent with the sound of your voice and the touch of your hands.  Please keep coming.  They need their great grandfather.”

“As long as you don’t make them call me great grandfather.  That’s too much of a mouthful even for me.”

“Double G-pa.  How’s that,” she murmured before a deep groan cut off his reply.

“They’re getting worse, aren’t they sweetheart?”

“I don’t know how Mother did it,” she sniffled between tears.  “I’m about to die and they said I’m at ‘four’.  That means I have six more of these to go.  If time is equal that’s…”  Confusion clouded her features and her eyes.  “A lot more hours.”

“My Kari was a strong woman.”

“And she swore she’d never have children again.”  Willow retorted grumpily.  “I think I get it.  I don’t know if I’ll do this again if it’s like this.”

“The memories will fade sweetheart.  My wife and Sheryl both swear that after a few weeks it’s just a fuzzy memory.  The babies-“

“Why didn’t Mother have that?” she wailed.  “Why did she have to keep such a vivid memory of such a horrible time?”

In the same soothing voice that had comforted Kari through scraped knees, bruised feelings, and a broken heart in the tenth grade, David Finley promised her he’d be there, he’d never leave her, and like Jesus, he wasn’t going to forsake her.  He promised that Chad was coming and that he’d be there soon.  This is exactly what Willow needed to hear.  Once he hit on the one thing that truly soothed her, David didn’t quit.  He talked about the little boy that Chad would have to stop and scold for not wearing his helmet causing Willow to smile.

“Aiden.  He never learns.”

Going from there, David assured Willow that Chad had to turn in the cruiser so the next officer could take his shift.  “He’s probably turning in the keys right now.”  After helping Willow to lay on her side once more, he continued with stopping at the farm, feeding and caring for the animals- “He’ll probably have to push some more alfalfa down from the rafters of that big ole barn you guys built so the sheep don’t starve while you’re gone.”

“Call Ryder and Caleb.  He has to call them.  For tomorrow.  Ask.”

“When he gets here, I’ll make sure he did.”

From washing up the dishes to changing sheets and getting the house ready, David mentioned everything he could think of to keep Willow’s husband from arriving.  He sent Chad back to town for a bank robbery, over to Westbury to pick up his mother, and help a kitten out of a tree for a little old lady.  This made Willow snort.

“Cat’s aren’t worth the trouble.  He has babies to help,” she whined as another contraction started to build.

“You’re right.  They’re not.  But kittens are.  Kittens are delightful until they become cats.  Then they’re disposable.”

“Don’t we sound horrible,” Willow giggled as she realized what they were saying.

“You’re smiling.  I’ll talk about just about anything to keep you smiling.”

His hands worked on Willow’s hips back, and shoulder.  Just as she thought she’d learned to control the contractions, they grew harder sending her into deeper and more frantic cries of pain.  David thought he’d go insane if he had to see her suffer any longer.  “I’ll be right back.  I promise.  Count to sixty and I’ll already be here.  Ready?”

Ignoring the terror in her eyes, David dashed from the room, found the nearest nurse, and demanded they get his granddaughter relief.  “She’s in agony.  If she’s making this much noise, she’s suffering ten times more than you think.  I want that doctor here now or so help me-“

“What doctor?”  The voice came from behind David’s ear.

“Her doctor is Dr. Kline and I want him now.”

“I’m Dr. Kline.  How can I help?”

“Do something for Willow.”

Anxious to get her some help as quickly as possible, he raced back to Willow’s side wetting the cloths he’d left again and wiping her forehead.  “Look at her.”

Dr. Kline settled at the end of the bed, ready to check her progress.  How David hated this.  He wanted to be far away when his granddaughter was in that position but instead, he focused on her eyes, told her to breathe a little slower, and squeeze his hands harder.  The doctor pulled off his gloves and tossed them in the garbage can.  “Well, you’re at five already-“

Willow’s wail pierced their ears.  “I can’t do this.  I just can’t do this,” she moaned.  “Cut them out of me now!”

“I’m not going to do that Willow,” Dr. Kline argued.  “It’s not in your or their best interests at this time.  However I am,” he continued at the despairing look in the eyes of man and granddaughter, “going to order an epidural for you.  You’ll be able to stay on top of the pain with it.”

The doctor dragged David from the room and demanded, “Where is her husband?  I expected to see Chad by her side the whole way?  He told me her mother went through this alone and he’s concerned about her mental stability over it so where is he?”

“We’ve called.  He was in court with his cell phone off and they said they’d go tell him.  I have no idea- it’s been three hours!”

Another shriek send David back to her side leaving the doctor confused.  A woman burst into the O.B. ward demanding to know where Willow Tesdall’s room was.  Seconds later, Marianne collapsed in a chair next to Willow’s bed and sighed.  “Finally.  I’m so sorry it took me so long.”

“Where’s Chad?”  Willow’s eagerness couldn’t be hidden.

“He’s coming.  The officer, Brad I think, who was supposed to call him was called to a barroom brawl and couldn’t go to the courthouse.  Everyone’s in a mess, the trial is taking longer than expected and Chad was last on the witness list.  I told him to stay until dismissal but he can’t get through anyway.”

David’s eyes widened.  “Why not?”

“Big accident.  Two tractor trailers hit each other around the bend where Chad was hit last year.  The whole road is blocked off.  I had to backtrack and come around through New Cheltenham.”

The anesthesiologist came through the door all smiles and too chipper for anyone’s comfort.  “Let us be getting you some relief mama,” the man said in his deep Indian accent.

The torture of laying on her side, bending in half when there was no where for her upper body to bend, and all through a contraction sent tears of pain rolling down her cheeks.  Marianne mopped her face and kept eye contact promising that it’d be better soon.  David tried to slip from the room but Willow grew hysterical as he disappeared behind the privacy curtain.  He returned, laid his gentle hands on her feet, itching to get back to the other end of the bed and away from areas that might send a baby flying into his fumbling hands.

The relief from the epidural was nearly instantaneous.  The anesthesiologist watched for five minutes to see if she responded well to it, and then gave her a full dose.  Her eyes nearly glazed over in abject relief and gratitude.  “He is my new hero.  I want to name the babies after this man.  What is your name?”

“Jasvinder.  I am thinking you’ll want to choose another name perhaps.”

Marianne, satisfied that Willow wouldn’t be splitting in half anytime soon, kissed her forehead.  “I’m just going to call Christopher and tell him you’re resting easier now.  I’ll call Chad too.  He’s going crazy with worry.”

To David’s surprise, she smiled her thanks and turned to him without a murmur.  He’d expected her to come unglued as Marianne left but she hardly noticed.  “You doing better sweetheart?”  His hands never left her arm, shoulder, hands.  The moment his hands moved away from her, she whimpered as her eyes pleaded for him to hold her.  “I’m not going anywhere, Willow.  I’ll stay right here until Chad comes.”

“Please stay.”

“I’m staying little girlie, I’m staying.”

Chapter 136~

The storm raged outside.  Half the woodpile sat in the middle of her kitchen and stacked next to Kari’s old bed.  The chickens were snug in the barn and Willow had orders not to even consider stepping outside for any reason other than labor or fire.  The new barn roof was finished just in time for the storm of the century.

Willow, on the other hand, was going a little stir crazy.  She’d finished every project on her list, cleaned the house from top to bottom, purged every room of anything extraneous, and then sat in her mother’s rocker until she felt like there was simply nothing to do.  She’d read every book in the house so many times she knew her favorite passages by page number.  Her journal was littered with inane comments left every few hours over the past twenty-four hours.

Finally, she opted for Christmas presents.  Considering that she might just be a bit busy over the next few months, Willow took out a fresh composition notebook, covered it with paper, decorated it with paper holly, ribbons, and buttons for berries, and opened it.  On the first page, she wrote the names of everyone in Chad’s family from Mom and Dad Tesdall down to Aggie and Luke’s new baby, Emma.  Page after page of friends, loved ones, and even acquaintances that she wanted to remember filled beneath her fingertips.

Chad found her, notebook in hand, and sobbing an hour or two later.  Concerned, he shrugged out of his coat leaving it on the floor by the door, dumped his belt, and hurried to the couch where she sat cross-legged, her belly covering her ankles.  “Lass, what is it?  What’s wrong?”

“Look at that!”

Page after page of names and gift ideas, mostly jellies and baked goods, turned beneath his fingers.  “Lass, you don’t have to do all this.  Alexa Hartfield doesn’t expect two hundred origami birds for a Christmas gift!”  He glanced at the next page.  “No wonder you’re so emotional.  I’d be overwhelmed too.  That’s a lot of work and I think-“

“That’s not why I’m overwhelmed!  Since when does a little work stop me?  Look at this list of friends, relatives, countrymen!”  She winked at him as she spoke the last word.  “Two years ago, I could name on one hand the number of people I’d been introduced to in my life.  Now I’m afraid I won’t remember them all.”  A ragged sob caught in her throat for a second before a fresh bout of weeping began.

“Oh Lass…”  He didn’t know what to say.  The aloneness that had kept him coming to the farm in the first place was something he didn’t miss.  He remembered the first time he read of Kari’s birth all alone, in a storm, no way to call for help; it still wrenched his heart thinking about it.  The sight of Willow standing alone on her porch, Othello at her side as he drove away that first afternoon had never left his mind.  He never wanted to see any human so alone and disconnected from mankind again.

“God has been so good.  I can’t stop thinking of that scripture in the Psalms that says ‘He sets the solitary in families…’.  He did that for me.  He gave me a family and then from that family He created a whole new branch in our family.  I am so blessed.”

Chad didn’t understand why the weeping.  As fresh tears flowed soaking his shirt and great sobs shook her shoulders, Chad patted her back ineffectively and murmured hushing noises in between his futile attempts to staunch the flow of tears.  Seconds passed.  Minutes.  Each one seemed longer than the last until finally, he lost all patience.

“Willow please.  It’s going to be ok.  You won’t be alone again, I promise.  Even if something horrible happened to me-“

Her shoulders shook even harder.  Ready to slap her in hopes of stopping what seemed to be hysteria, Chad’s eyes widened as he realized the sound coming from behind his wife’s hands wasn’t weeping anymore.  She was laughing.

“What-“

“You just sound so sweet and funny as if tears always mean something bad.  I’m happy.”

“You’re crying because you’re happy that you know a lot of people that you feel obligated to give gifts to and overwork yourself into early labor.”  He paused.  “Wait.  That’s it, isn’t it.  You’re trying to have these kids too soon so you don’t have to wait anymore.  That’s why you’ve been sewing and cleaning and going through every possession as though you were putting your affairs in order.”

Willow tried to speak but he continued for a minute or two recounting every activity she’d attempted recently until finally he jumped to his feet, whirled to face her, and pointing her finger in her face accused, “You’re nesting!”

His eyes saw his finger thrust almost between her eyes and a slow flush crept up his neck and burned his ears.  Sheepishly, Chad pulled his hands back into his pocket and stared down at his wife.  Her face was nearly purple with repressed laughter.  Eyes bulging, watering freely from the strain, she looked ready to explode.  “Just let it out.  I deserve it.”

She flopped over on her side and howled.  For several minutes Chad and Willow laughed until even Chad found himself wiping tears of hilarity from his eyes.  “I needed that,” he confessed when they finally regained composure.

“Me too.  I was feeling a little sorry for myself with nothing to do and then I started making a list- I mean, most of that is already made-“

“How?”

“I’ll give extra jars of preserves, jams, and jellies to most of them.  I just want a little something that says, ‘I appreciate having you in my life.’”

“And then you saw just how many people were in your life and got all weepy on me?”

“No, I got weepy before you ever came home.  You interrupted my tears of thanksgiving.  It was my party and you weren’t invited.”

“So do you want to tell me why you were planning Christmas presents in February?”

“I was bored.”

He stared at her slack-jawed.  “Will wonders never cease?”

***

March-

I confess, I am ready to be done with this business of gestating.  Is it terrible that I can’t imagine ever wanting to do this again.  Chad already speaks of ‘next time’ as though it was a given but knowing what I now know of the medication I used to help me ovulate, I’m not sure I’m willing to risk having half a dozen children all at once.  Our lives here, would be over.  I know people have done it and have probably handled it beautifully but for me, I see it as a very frightening prospect.  How would I keep my sanity, be a wife, run a farm, and still manage to give my children adequate care?  I don’t know that I could.  Two at once is overwhelming enough to imagine.  Four or five at once…  Now that I know it is possible (well, not just possible but that it has actually happened) I don’t think I care to risk it.

However, Dr. Kline assures me that sometimes, all the body needs is a pregnancy to properly regulate hormones and ‘prime the pump’ as he put it.  He says that it is entirely possible that I will have no trouble ovulating in the future.  He warns us not to get our hopes up but that we also should not automatically assume that because I was infertile (how strange it seems to say that as I sit here leaning so far over to reach the table comfortably) I will continue to be so.

Each day I grow a little weaker.  It’s hard to keep up my workload when I’m carrying thirty-five extra pounds across my midsection.  It’s hard to get enough food in me so I’ve taken to focusing on the highest quality food I can find.  I cook a steak for breakfast and keep it on the warming shelf of the stove until it’s eaten.  Then I go for a glass of milk followed by whatever fresh vegetables I’ve managed to pick the day before.  The greenhouse is invaluable.  I keep a new quart of fruit on the counter every day and eat from it every time I walk by.  It helps to keep my blood sugar levels stable.  I wasn’t careful for a week there and I found myself feeling faint quite often.  Hard boiled eggs are kept in the ice box for whenever I need them and Chad brings home some kind of new fruit every day or two.  I’ve been eating oranges especially.  Oh they are so good.

Each night I go to bed with oatmeal and milk and I sleep like a baby- well, like I hope these babies will sleep.  It seems as though the minute I go to bed they’re ready to get up and play.  Chad says it is because I rock them to sleep all day but when I lie down, I quit rocking them.  I didn’t have the heart to tell him that they move most of the day too.

Dr. Kline wants me to make it to March fifteenth.  After that, he says I can work myself into labor if I choose but until then, my job is to keep eating, keep my feet up as often as possible, and keep these babies growing inside me.  I can’t decide if I want them to come as quickly after the fifteenth as possible or if I want more time.  We’re almost to the end of just Chad and me time and while I never thought much of it when people were pushing for us to wait for children, I now see their point.  Our marriage will never be the same.  That’s not a bad thing- I’m not saying that but it is different and I like how things are.  I want to enjoy it while I have it.  Mother’s biggest goal in the life she created for us here was that we enjoy each and every day to its fullest.  We don’t look back on our days wishing we’d appreciated them more because we took the time to do it while we lived it.  I want that for this area too.

Chad, however, is ready to be a papa.  He sings to the children, reads them the Word (I never imagined him volunteering to read anything aloud but he does it frequently now), and spends hours “brainwashing” them as I call it.  He reminds them to obey mama, treat each other kindly, remember to do their jobs diligently, and so many other little admonitions of good and proper behavior.  It’s quite endearing and I wonder if it’ll make any difference but even if it doesn’t, I have wonderful memories of it to comfort me as I try to rear them to godliness.

Names have become a bone of contention between us.  I have this slight feeling of panic not knowing what names we’ve chosen for our children.  I can’t imagine the pressure of choosing while in the hospital but Chad says if he can’t name an animal without seeing its eyes, how is he supposed to name his child without holding him, looking into his little face, and sensing his personality.  I think it’s an excuse to avoid the fact that I don’t want to name them Adoniram and Brainard or Isobel.  Those were his last options.  He’s on a missionary kick or something.  The good news is, he has agreed to consider Christopher and Chadwick for middle names if we have boys.  Truthfully, I think a girl will be Karianne Olivia.  He mentioned it once and while he has been talking about Elisabeth, Amy, and Isobel lately (I have prayed he wouldn’t mention Gladys), he doesn’t seem as enamored with them as he is the men.

Mom bought us a baby name book and I went through it and highlighted every name I liked with a pink or blue colored pencil.  There were many lovely names in the book that I’d never heard of and oh my they were tempting.  I could tell Chad liked some but others didn’t appeal to him.  He said he can’t understand how I can love a name like Margaret and then suggest Windsor in the next breath.  Of course he likes Margaret and despises Windsor.  I thought it sounded interesting.  He says why not Westminster?

Grandfather Finley came by to see me this week.  He was on his way back from Brunswick and took the Fairbury route in order to come see me.  It was a nice visit but I can tell it is still difficult for him to see where Mother lived, see her pictures on the wall and the end tables and know that she was so close and yet out of his reach.  He hasn’t read most of the journals.  He says they are too difficult to handle.  I think he got to the part about the nightmares or maybe my birth and couldn’t see that it got better.  I assure him that we were happy, that she missed and loved them, and that I never doubted how much she admired them and hated what she’d done to them.  I don’t know how much he enjoyed his stay, he seemed a little uncomfortable.  But he says he has to come back in a week and a half so perhaps it wasn’t too awkward for him.

Every time I see him or Grandmother, they have some kind of gift for me.  This time, he brought me a very expensive camera.  I don’t quite know how to accept it but Chad says they have lived for so many years unable to give to their daughter or granddaughter, let them have their fun.  Chad has spent hours on his internet at work researching lenses for this camera and finally ordered three.  From what I understand, he spent on those lenses what Grandfather must have on the camera.  Those are some amazingly expensive lenses!  However, I’ve been practicing and it does take some amazing pictures.  I’ve even gotten a couple that feel a little like Wes Hartfield’s style.  I wasn’t sure I’d like this computerized camera but I confess, I do.  Chad was right.  I can take two hundred pictures and ‘throw away’ all but five and it didn’t cost me any more than if I just took those five.  How amazing!  So much of modern technology seems wasteful to me but I have to say, that one thing alone must save a fortune in bad pictures and wasted paper when people have to toss them.

The babies are restless.  I think I’ll walk around.  My ankles seem less swollen now.  It’s a delicate balance between being on my feet too much and not enough.  If I am not careful, either one will give me elephant ankles- none.

Chapter 135~

“I-I-I tried to-to- tell him b-b-but he would-d-dn’t listen.”

“And now the barn roof needs to be replaced already?”  Willow stared at Charlie Janovick in dismay.

“Yes.”  Two words Charlie had learned how not to stutter.  Yes and no.  Years of speech therapy and the only success was with those two little words that people use so often.  The word ‘I’ on the other hand, as much as he’d struggled to succeed with it, he’d failed.

“And you think the plastic is the best option?”

“F-f-for F-f-ebruary, yes.”

Willow nodded.  “I see.  Ok.  Get whatever you need from me and I’ll take care of it.”

“I-I-I’m sorry W-W-Willow.  I-I-I should have b-b-been more p-p-persuasive.”

“He was in a hurry and heard what he wanted to hear.  I probably would have done the same thing.”  She dished out a bowl of stew from the stove and handed it to the handyman.  “Eat.  And while you’re at it, tell me if you want to do the work yourself or if you think I should find a contractor.”

“C-c-contractor.  D-d-definitely.  I-I-I would d-do it, b-b-but time…”

“You think it’s more important to get it done quickly and a contractor can do it faster than one man alone?”

Nodding, Charlie swallowed his first bite.  Willow’s stew was the most delicious thing he’d eaten in months.  As handy as he was everywhere else, Charlie lived on macaroni and cheese, ramen noodles, canned chili, and sandwiches.  A ‘fancy’ meal for him was lasagna or a pot pie from the freezer section of the grocery store.  “I-if I-I-I wasn’t so b-b-usy, I-I-I might have t-t-time b-b-but…”

“Well, I won’t pretend that I wouldn’t prefer to have you do it.  You’re a genius with your hands but if you find me a good contractor who can do it before the next snow, I’ll consider myself hugely blessed.”

“G-g-got the m-man for you.  I-I-I’ll send h-him out.”

The next morning, a middle aged man with a spread around his middle to match knocked on her door.  Willow grabbed her coat and stepped outside.  “Sorry, my husband is sleeping.  He just got in at six so I’m trying not to wake him.”

“Charlie told me what’s going on up there and what needs to be done.  I’ll take a look but I suspect if Charlie says it, then it’s so.  He hasn’t been wrong yet.”

“And your name is?”  Willow liked the man already.  Anyone who recognized Charlie as a treasure was all right in her book.

“I’m sorry- I’m Paul Plummer.”

“The roofer.”

“You don’t know how often I get people trying to convince me I know how to fix their pipes.  Not only do I not know, I don’t want to learn,” the man joked as he grabbed his ladder from his truck.  “I’ll just climb up there and give it a once over.”

Minutes later, he climbed down shaking his head.  “Charlie’s right.  You’ve got ice between your shingles and some are already tearing.  I don’t know what went wrong up there-  I didn’t take the time to look- but outside the fact that I use this product because I believe in it, I think it’s the only one safe to install this quickly and in this weather.”

“Can you have it done by Friday?”

“I’d have to charge quite a bit extra…”  The man looked embarrassed to say it.

“I don’t care.  We can’t afford to add more work onto what we’re already doing.”  As she spoke, Willow clutched her stomach and sucked in her breath.

“You ok ma’am?”  Looking about a year overdue in Paul’s eyes, the man was sure she’d gone into labor.

“Yep.  I’ve just got a kicker in here and sometimes he really gets me.”

“You due soon?”

“Two months.”

Before the man could express his surprise, a car pulled into the yard next to his truck.  Carol Finley stepped out of her car and waved at Willow excitedly.  “Wait’ll you see what I brought!”

“My grandmother is here.  I need to go but thank you.  I’ll sign whatever paperwork you want.  Just please try to get that roof on before the next snow.  If we like your work, I’ll see what Chad says about replacing our other roofs to match.  I know Mother planned to replace the old barn roof next year anyway.”

Leaving the man, Willow waddled through the snow rubbing her belly briskly and wishing she’d not decided that a maternity coat was a waste of time and money.  “Grandmother!”

From the trunk, Carol Finley pulled a large box.  “It’s a jogger stroller.  It’s meant for use on the roads so you could walk to town with the babies and it’d be a comfortable ride.  The wheels have shocks and everything.”  Before Willow could respond, Carol pulled out a large department store bag.  “And, one of the ladies at church gave this to me for you.  Her daughter had twins last winter and found this coat…”

The women chatted as they dragged the box onto the porch and then went inside.  Willow tried on the coat and was excited to see that not only did it button, it’d still button for at least a couple of more weeks.  “This is so thoughtful!  I’ll take good care of it for her.”

“Oh no, it’s yours.  She’s not having any more children so she doesn’t want it back.”  Carol pointed at the truck retreating down the driveway.  “Who was that?”

“Something’s wrong with the barn roof and apparently it’s serious enough that it has to be replaced immediately.  Paul’s going to replace it before Friday.”

“Storm’s coming Friday.  We were worried.  They said they expect a lot of power outages in the outer lying towns.”

“Considering we hardly use power, we’re not concerned for us but I made extra candles yesterday and Chad took them to town in case people need them.  He’s going to haul wood today too.”

One last glance out the window showed the new mini van parked beneath the awning Chad had erected.  “I see you bought the car.”

“I’m learning to drive it too.  So far, I haven’t hit anything but I have come close.”

The women talked over tea and cookies, Carol sharing stories of her own pregnancies and Willow laughing at the antics of her unborn mother in utero.  As Willow hemmed summer blankets, Carol worked slowly on the broomstick lace summer afghan she was crocheting under Willow’s patient tutelage and talked about impending baby shower.  “I didn’t come to your bridal shower- I wish I would have…”

“You weren’t ready.  I understood that.”

“We kept you at arm’s length because of Kari’s decisions.  That was wrong, Willow.”

Willow shook her head and snipped the embroidery floss.  “No.  It wasn’t.  Family ties aren’t created at birth simply because of the birth.  They’re slowly interwoven as time and relationships emerge.  You can’t just wake up one morning, find out you have a grandchild of twenty-two, and expect to have a close personal relationship.  I had more connection with you because Mother was careful to teach me all about you.”  She corrected a stitch and added, “When you add to it, all the pain of Mother’s disappearance, I’m amazed you ever speak to me.”

Chad burst through the door grinning.  “Fran sent this package home.  I think I know what it is but I’m not sure.”  Dropping the box on the couch next to Willow, he raced into the kitchen.  “Where are those batteries I bought?”

“In the cellar.  Top shelf to the right of the door next to the candles,” Willow called back stifling a giggle as she struggled from the couch.  “He’ll stare right at them and never see them… this time.”

“Visual learner?”

“Yeah… the vision of my immense belly reminds him that he can use his eyes just as well as I can use mine.”

Carol’s laughter followed as Willow waddled through the kitchen and down the cellar steps.  “Did you find them?”

“Top shelf where-  Oh Willow, you didn’t have to come in here.  Now you have to climb back up again.”

“I can stand the climb better than the shout.  Here.”  She passed him the box of batteries.  “What do you need with them?”

“Power is out in town.  I’m going to keep them in the car for when people need them.”

“But the storm hasn’t hit yet!”  Willow’s surprise was arrested by a swift kick to her bladder.  “Ow!”

“Don’t you dare go into labor now woman.”

“I’m not due yet!  It’s- oof- just a kick.  I want you to have a talk with your son when he gets here.  I am not putting up with this kind of treatment.”

To her amusement, Chad laid both hands on her belly gently sliding them around until he found the offensive foot.  He sank down on his heels and pressed his cheek against her stomach where the baby had started moving again.  “Hey little guy,” the movement stopped.  “Be nice.  Your mama’s tired and those kicks hurt.  You can move but take it easy ok?”

The foot stretched again but Chad massaged it until it disappeared from the surface.  “How do you do that?  I try it and get a punch to the rib in addition to the kicks.”

“They know authority when they hear it.”

“I think you have a future in hostage negotiation.”

***

Exhausted, Chad crawled from the covers and padded downstairs.  Sitting in her mother’s rocker, Willow’s eyes were closed and she rocked slowly.  “Can’t sleep Lass?”

“I could sleep fine if little feet weren’t running relays.”

“Relays huh?”  He stood behind her kneading her shoulders with his hands.  “How do you know it isn’t all one very rambunctious child while his sibling is the victim of false accusations?”

“How do you know the rambunctious one is a he?”  She leaned her head back and grinned into Chad’s sleepy eyes.  “Besides, I can tell where the movements are coming from.  Either they’re doing the tango in there or they’re running relays.  One baby can’t be in all places at once.  Not even yours.”

“What do you have to do tomorrow?”

“Just a bit of tomato picking for Jill and cooking for the work crew.”

He marveled at this wife of his.  “You know, Lass, you don’t have to make them a hot lunch every day.  It’s not expected much less required.”

“They’re out there working in the freezing cold to protect my barn and get it done before the storm.  The least I could do is give them a hot meal in the process.”  She smiled thoughtfully.  “I guess it’s good I didn’t need to relieve any more angst or we wouldn’t have had enough dishes.”

“Missing Mother these days?”  His hands found the knots beneath her shoulder blades and worked diligently to release them.

“I’m missing her but it’s not the same.  I have family in my life now.  I’ve read her thoughts and fears that I never really understood before she died.  I’m more ready to accept that she’s exactly where she’d wanted to be since that horrible day that changed her life.  She’s content.  I miss her but I no longer resent her for leaving or God for taking her.”

They stayed there for some time without speaking- Willow rocking, Chad rubbing the aches and kinks from her very swollen body.  Finally, Willow caught his hands in hers.  “Go back to bed Chad.  With Brad sick, you could be called in anytime.  Get some sleep.  I’ll be fine.”  She smiled at his protest and shook her head.  “I’ve got to get used to it anyway.  Your mother assures me I won’t get a decent night’s sleep for the first year anyway.”

Reluctantly, Chad climbed the stairs and crawled under the covers.  Now awake, he lit the oil lamp beside their bed and reached for her journal.  He hadn’t read it in a week.  As busy as they were, it was a nice way to make sure he was in tune with his wife’s thoughts.

February-

Time is flying.  I never understood that concept as a child or even when Mother was alive.  Before the strangeness with the Solaris, not much had changed around here and I rarely looked back wondering where the time had gone but the longer I’m married and the closer these babies get to birth, the faster the days seem to fall from the calendar.

Dr. Kline is very happy with how our little tykes are growing, how I’m stretching and how I don’t seem to be gaining too much.  I’m finding it impossible to keep food down now, however, if I accidentally over eat.  Just one extra bite will send me running for a bucket so I am now carefully planning every single bite to ensure I don’t eat too much or too little.  It is a nuisance of epic proportions but I’ll survive.  I told Chad the first thing he must do after the babies are born is go get me something, anything, that I can fill my stomach with.

Grandmother Finley and I have forged a tentative relationship.  As time goes by, we become more comfortable with each other and remember to seek out time together.  I confess, I forgot about her much of the time.  My life is busy- too busy to make new friends so it wasn’t a priority to call, write, or visit.  I’m not proud of that but Chad reminded me that mail, phones, and roads work both ways and I couldn’t take the full responsibility of keeping in touch on my shoulders.  Now, we seem to take turns.   At first it was once a month to six weeks one of us would call, send a letter, or if nearby, stop to visit for a few minutes.  Then it became every four weeks almost to the day alternating between us.  After Christmas it seemed as though every other week we’d find ourselves chatting, writing, or visiting and now a week doesn’t go by without me seeing or hearing from her and receiving a letter or two.

Mother’s journaling bug has hit Grandmother finally.  She’s not up to keeping them pretty so I cover them, add embellishments inside from place to place, and give them to her whenever she says she’s getting low.  She’s become quite prolific and she says she keeps all of my letters protected in clear plastic sleeves in a binder.  I need to cover one of those for her too.  I think she’d like it.

I confess, I am becoming nervous about motherhood.  Mom brings books and articles to help “prepare” me for the baby.  They tell me how to deal with cracked nipples, afterbirth pains, colic, reflux, how to avoid SIDS, and how to keep my marriage intact after the little adorable invaders that apparently want to do nothing but ruin our time together and ensure they have no siblings.  I’ve tried to remind myself that these are written for people with the problem not because everyone has the problem but considering I have zero experience with children and babies, I don’t know just how much to take to heart and how much to file away for ‘just in case’.

Chad stared at the words before he made a decision.  This needed to stop.  Now.  His mother would be horrified to know she was creating anxiety in Willow.  He turned out the lamp, rolled over, and tried to decide whether he should tell Willow to put the stuff away until she needed it for reference or tell his mother to just be ready to help whenever something came up.

The stairs creaked.  She was coming back to bed.  He waited.  The closet door opened.  He heard her take something from the shelf and wondered what she was doing.  The water came on in the bathroom and then silence.  Creak.  Surely she wasn’t.  Creak.  It was softer this time.  A minute or two later, he saw her shadow enter the bathroom, exit, and the closet door came open again.

“Steps creaking again?”

“Yep.”

“Did you oil it or what?”

“Oil?  The step?  Of course not!  Powder.  Sweep it into the cracks and voila.  Stops the creaks.”

He shook his head.  “You’re absolutely amazing Lass.  Amazing.”

“What are you doing awake?”  Willow rolled over and laid her head on her husband’s chest.

“I was reading.”

“What did I say this time?”  She recognized his tone.

“Well, apparently my mom is causing a bit of stress-“

“Oh no Chad.  It’s not like that at all!  She’s being really helpful!”

He laced his fingers through hers and smiled as a light kick barely registered against his side.  “Mom would be so upset if she knew you were taking these things to heart.  She’s trying to build you a reference library, not give you a coronary.  Just take what she brings, put it on a shelf, and don’t worry about it until you need it.”

“Yes dear.”

“Don’t patronize me woman!”

“Why not, you matronize me all the time.”

He pretended to growl.  “Do you want me to tell that child to start kicking again?”

“I’ll be good oh wise and wonderful husband of mine.  I’ll be good.”

“Thought so.”

Chapter 134~

December-

Christmas is coming but we aren’t fattening any geese around Walden Farm.  I think I’m doing all the fattening that is necessary.  I’m huge.  Seriously, I am amazingly rotund.  Ok, I’m immensely rotund.  At five months pregnant, my doctor says I am approximately the size of a woman who is around thirty-three weeks pregnant even though I am only twenty-two weeks pregnant.

We saw the babies.  They have fingers and toes and you can see them on the screen.  Oh was I relieved to have an ultrasound without that awful thing inside me.  It was nice for Chad too.  The doctor is certain that one of the babies is a boy.  The other he thinks is a girl but he isn’t sure.  We were going to go to Dr. Weisenberg but he suggested we go to Dr. Kline in Brunswick.  He didn’t feel comfortable with handling a twin birth with his current work load.  I don’t know what that means exactly but I assume he knows what he is talking about.

Until I heard ‘a boy and a girl’ I hadn’t even imagined having one.  Yes, I thought it might be nice but I assumed that I’d have the two boys I’d always pictured and just brushed off the idea of a girl but now… I picture a miniature version of my mother and mom-Marianne and I want her.  I’ve made a few little feminine day gowns.  Mom brought patterns for them and I’ve been sewing and embroidering… Chad says I can’t put his son in a gown.  I can’t imagine why.  (that was sarcasm for my captive audience of one).  So, for little guy, I’ve been making ‘onesies’ and using appliqués and such to feed my need to sew for my son as well.  So far, Chad hasn’t been affronted by creations.  I’m working on baby quilts next.  I think I’ll do a pink, a blue, and a green.  If baby two isn’t a girl, I’ll have a quilt for him and a pink baby gift.  If it is a she, then I’ll have green for either boy or girl.  Perfect.

Chad laughs at how much white I’m sewing.  He says that it’ll all be stained and ugly immediately but I reminded him that bleach is the righter of all stained wrongs.  I love white little baby things.  I have white blankets, diapers, gowns, sleepers, and even ‘nursing gowns’ courtesy of mom who seems to bring me a new gift every time she comes.  The babies have toys, clothes, and books to please a dozen children.  I have maternity clothes, nursing clothes, patterns, fabric, snacks, and things to pamper myself with like lotions, creams, and such.  She visits me once a week for an afternoon and we work on making baby books ready to insert pictures at will.  It makes her happy and all of the stress that had tried to root into our relationship has been ripped out.  We’re back to who we were and I love it.  Mom is a wonderful woman and it feels like I have her back again.

The babies move constantly- or so it seems.  Honestly, I sit sometimes and stare at they way my stomach rolls one way or another.  I am constantly eating and drinking.  I can’t put much in me at one time so instead, I ‘graze’ as Chad puts it.  Dr. Kline says that my weight gain is phenomenal.  I thought that meant a lot but apparently it means that I’m gaining exactly what is necessary to give these little tykes a good start and nothing more.  He is optimistic about my ability to return to close to pre-pregnancy weight.  I think I’m supposed to care a lot about that but frankly, I’m too busy to worry if my backside is wider or my chest needs another increase in support.  And it does.  If I wasn’t unbalanced with the babies sitting in front, I would be by their bottles above.  Oh my word it’s amazing.  Chad laughs.  I can’t wait until I have some milk flowing and can squirt him in the eye.  That’ll teach him.

We did have a bit of an upset over the whole milk thing.  He’d forgotten that Mother had supply problems and I didn’t thrive at first.  When I mentioned getting another goat around the time of the birth just in case, he came unhinged.  Unglued.  Flipped out.  Freaked out.  Lost it.  Ummm I know Cheri used more phrases but I’ve forgotten them.  He brought home a can of formula and explained why we’d be using that instead.  I opened it, poured it into a cup, took a sip, and spat it out across the room.  Oh boy did we have a lovely argument that time…

Chad, reading the journal, laughed at the recollection of Willow’s disgusted and indignant face.  “I will not feed my child this nasty stuff until you are willing to drink it too.  I can’t believe you’d even suggest it.  Smell it!” she’d demanded thrusting the glass under his nose.  He knew he’d lost the argument the moment he gagged at the smell.

“I can’t feed my babies goat milk.  I just can’t do it.  It’s not-“

“It’s good enough for me… and it was for me as a baby… it’s good enough for you… but it is bad for the babies?” Her voice had been full of surprise at that moment.

“It’s just,” Chad remembered saying as though he watched the scene all over again, “that we don’t boil the milk, we don’t-“

“It doesn’t need to have all the vitamins and minerals boiled out of it.  Why would we do that?”

“But they’re just little babies, Willow!  What if-“

“I thrived on that stuff Chad.  Thrived.  Do you think I want to risk my babies?  Do you think I’d do anything to hurt them?  Do you think Mother didn’t study everything she could to make the very best decision?  Do we not live daily with the wisdom of those decisions?”

He hadn’t liked to admit the strength and validity of her argument.  After all, he was constantly telling people how wise Kari was, how knowledgeable, and how their success was largely dependent upon all the research she’d done for them over the years she’d lived on the farm.  However, the idea of feeding his babies raw goat’s milk just seemed irresponsible.  He chalked it up to a lifetime of indoctrination regarding things of that nature and promised to discuss it with the pediatrician.

1. Happy to hear Willow planned to nurse her babies as long as humanly possible, she assured both parents that whether they supplemented with nothing, with goat’s milk, or with formula, as long as the babies could digest what was fed, developed no sensitivities to it, and thrived, she would approve any of the three choices- her first being Willow nursing them exclusively for a minimum of four months.

Chad was relieved.  Somehow a doctor’s validation of Kari’s research made him more willing to endure what he knew would be a cry of protest if the necessity ever arose.  His family simply wouldn’t understand.  However, his concerns about well baby checks were also validated.  Willow considered them unnecessary and asking for trouble.  She was concerned about constant exposure to germs in a doctor’s office where sick children waited in the same room as well children, were seen in the same rooms as well children, and for what?  Measurements?  Weight gain?  Willow was certain she could handle any of those things at home.

Dr. Wesley disagreed.  She discussed the tendency of one twin to be smaller, of slightly increased speech and motor skill delays and assured Willow that she’d be happy to take the twins as the first children of the day on their visits if germs were a concern.  Chad had sighed in relief when Willow nodded and said, “As long as we can leave through the back door, I guess. “

They were still at an impasse in regards to vaccinations.  Chad insisted on none at birth.  When he heard of the Hepatitis B vaccine at birth, he was adamantly opposed to it giving Willow the false impression that he’d be opposed to most of the shots suggested.  She’d endured the Rubella shot when the titer came back negative for antibodies for the sake of the babies but saw no reason for them to have the shots while their immune systems were still developing.  Chad disagreed.  He was, however, adamant that there be no shots before age four months.  When asked why, he couldn’t give a coherent answer but to Willow’s way of thinking, it just gave her that many more months to convince him to avoid them all together.

Their evenings were filled with debates on car seats, scheduled feeding, and diapers.  Often one of them took the role of devil’s advocate for the sheer joy of the discussion finally admitting that they were in full agreement with the other.  Chad was waiting for Willow to return from her fourth trip to the bathroom since supper before he brought up the next topic of debate.  He was sure she wasn’t expecting it and she wouldn’t like it but on this one, Chad was determined.  There wasn’t an option in his mind.

Willow waddled down the stairs, her favorite top stretched taught across her immense, in his opinion anyway, belly.  Already she had to put her foot up on a chair to tie her shoes but the babies had hardly slowed her down at all.  She worked from sun up ‘till sundown, slept like a log, and rose the next morning fresh and eager for more.  Dr. Kline had warned him that by the end of February, she’d be slowing down much more than she thought she would.

“Beating up the bladder tonight are they?

“Yep.  If I didn’t need the water so badly, I’d quit drinking it and save myself the trouble.”  She sank into the couch awkwardly and then put her feet up on the arm leaning into his chest with her back.  “Ahhh that feels good.  Hey, I had an idea about names.”

“What’s that?”

“I think we should choose boy and girl names with the same initials.  That way, I can monogram their clothing and if they look a lot alike, we won’t mix them up.”

“You want to monogram their clothing?”  Only Willow would think of it.  “Isn’t that a bit- um… formal?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t make it look like those towels we got for the wedding… I was thinking about cute little letters that looks babyish or fits the style of the outfit.  Just a little monogram on the pocket or the bottom of the feet.”

“Well, it would help,” Chad teased, “in reducing the options of names anyway.  Did you have any idea of initials you wanted to use?”

“I was thinking one could be CWT and the other WCT.  Chad and Willow.  Cute?”

“I like it but I wanted to name a girl after our mothers and you.”

“Since when?”  For the past six weeks he’d been throwing out every name under the planet and not one was a family name.

“I thought of it yesterday.  We could name her Karianne Olivia after you, Mother, Mom, and Aunt Libby- I just thought of the Aunt Libby part.”

“I like that…”

“What were you thinking boy wise?  There could be two boys in there you know…”

“But Dr. Kline said he thought the other one was a girl.”  Willow was confused.

“Well, ultrasounds are more accurate than they used to be but they’re only so accurate as they can see.  He’s certain one is a boy but he’s guessing on the girl because he didn’t see um-“ Chad winked at her flushing face, “evidence of a boy.”

“I wish I knew for sure.”

“I think it’s funny that you want to know.  I was sure I’d have to bribe you with a few hundred sheep or something to get you to let them look at all.”

Willow shook her head.  “Why not know!  We can make clothes, buy toys, pick names… I think it’s amazing that we have the technology and I love being able to plan it all.”

“Plan.  I should have thought of that.  The only thing the Finley woman love more than doing things the old fashioned way is to plan out their every step.”

“Sue me.”  Willow reached for her water, grimaced, and took a swig.  “And here starts the ten o’clock tramp to the necessary.”

“I’ve got another thing to bring up that you’re not going to like.”

“Then don’t!”  Her wicked grin prompted a fresh burst of chuckles from Chad.

“Sorry, no can do.”

“So, what won’t I like.”

“We have to buy another car.”  Even as he said it, Chad felt like a coward.  He’d left out the worst of it and he’d done it deliberately.  He was stalling.

“Soooo why will that bother me?  We can’t get the babies home in the truck.  I know that.  Well,” she thought for a moment and shrugged.  “You could always get your mom to take us home.”

“And how would we all go to church, visit my parents, or go to the babies’ check-ups?”

“That’s one way to avoid them…”

“Not happening.  You agreed.”

She threw up her hands in mock despair.  “Don’t shoot!  I’ll surrender.  So you buy a car.  Do the accounts have enough money?  What’s the problem?”

“Well, buying the car isn’t the biggest problem.”  Chad took a deep breath.  “The big problem is that you’re going to have to learn to drive.”

“Not happening.”

“Not an option,” he countered quietly.  Before she could mount her offense, Chad clamped a hand over her mouth.  “Just listen.  I promised not to lead you anywhere you weren’t ready to go unless I had to.  This is my first deviation.  Like it or not, you must learn.  Period.”

“Why?”  The lack of belligerence in her tone was a huge relief.

“Because you never know what could happen to those babies.  They get sick.  They need help.  Croup, pneumonia, RSV, there’s all kinds of stuff that babies get and I might not be able to get to you in time to get them where they need to be.  One could start learning to crawl and fall down the stairs.  They could cut themselves on something- anything.  Your mother managed not to need an ambulance and I commend her for that but-“

“But you’re not willing to take that risk.”

Chad shook his head.  “No.  I’m not.  I have been praying that you’d understand.  I’m not asking you to drive everywhere.  If you want to stroll to town with them, so be it.  If you never leave the farm except when I’m driving- that’s fine.  But I want you able to do it if they need you to.”

“Do I have to get a license?”

“I think it’d be smart…”

“If it was a true emergency, couldn’t they just give me a ticket for driving without one and we pay it?  I don’t want a license.”

“But you’ll learn to drive.”  It wasn’t a question.

Willow nodded.  “You teach me how and I’ll make sure that in an emergency, I can safely get us medical attention.”

“I won’t pretend I wouldn’t prefer you had a license.  I want you to pray about it- think about it- reconsider.  But for now, as long as you learn how to drive, I’ll be content.”

They sat discussing names until Willow yawned the third time.  For Chad, that was his clue that she needed bed, now.  He practically pushed her upstairs and demanded that she brush her teeth before he hurried downstairs to blow out the Christmas candles.  From just outside the library, he shoved the wise men along the edge of the table a little closer to the tree.

As they crawled into bed, Willow holding her unwieldy stomach until she rolled over comfortably, Chad debated asking the question that had confused him for weeks.  He’d known she wouldn’t want a license.  Instinctively, he’d predicted her exact response but he’d avoided asking the question but here, resting comfortably in their bed as he listened to the crackle of the wood in the stove outside their bedroom door, he was ready to hear.

“Why don’t you want a license Willow?  Having it doesn’t mean you have to drive…”

“It’s silly really, but-“

“Come on, I’m curious.”

She rolled over to face him, slowly releasing her supporting hands from around her belly once again.  “I don’t want the temptation.  Just as Mother needed to turn off the electricity to avoid the things that would drag her from the life she wanted to live, I need to avoid the one thing that I think would tempt me away from the one I want to live.  I don’t want to become lazy and I think I would.”

“That’s absurd!  Willow, you’re the least lazy-“

“And I have safeguards in my life that help keep me that way.  Remember how I forgot to order staples until I ran out of salt?  It’s already easy to do those things knowing you can just bring them home for me.  What’ll happen if I can run to town for a piece of fabric instead of taking the time to make it myself.  Little outfits like Cari and Lorna’s won’t happen.”

“But you loved making that fabric- surely you’d do it again in the same instance.”

“I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully.  “I’d like to think I wouldn’t but I love to look at fabric ideas that others have as well.  Who is to say I wouldn’t be tempted to shop for it.  It’s not wrong to shop for it but I don’t want to wake up twenty years from now and regret that I lost my ingenuity and creativity due to my own laziness.”

“I am having trouble imagining you as lazy.”

She laid her hand on his cheek smiling to herself.  “Chad, you have a hard time remembering that I’m imperfect except when we happen to be disagreeing.  It’s sweet but if you really think about it you’ll remember just what I pill I really am.”

“Should I say something sappy like, ‘if you’re a pill then I’ll take my medicine happily?’”

“Um, no.  That’s just… um… no.”

1. “Four more month’s Lord… just four more months…”