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“So then I was thinking that there was no reason to assume we had to pay anyone for anything. I mean, we have produce, chickens, eggs, wool, I spin so that’s yarn, and there is all that food I canned and such, so why not try to barter first? If I gave a better price on each item to whomever worked for us, then it’d be a savings for them and wouldn’t cost us cash. It’s a win-win if we find someone willing to work for goods instead of dollars.”
Chad smiled at the eagerness in Willow’s voice. Ever since the discussion with David, her old bounce and energy seemed to be returning, although slowly. He wondered at the change in her when there was no change in their situation. “Lass, I’ve noticed you seem a bit more like your old self these days. Since nothing has changed around here, I was wondering what happened.”
“I don’t know. I think maybe I needed to see that I don’t have to do it all by myself. Just knowing I don’t need to freed me somehow.”
“I was thinking we could put an ad in the Fairbury Gazette. You write it, and I’ll drop it off on my way to work this afternoon.”
Willow dropped the dish cloth into the sink, dried her hands, grabbed pen and paper and began writing. He nearly went crazy as she meticulously wrote each word in her perfect and artistic penmanship. “There. What do you think?”
Chad read the paper aloud. “We are a family of four and are looking for part-time house help. It is our preference to barter food and fiber items in exchange for the work, but will also consider monetary compensation. Please inquire at Walden Farm or call 555-3525.”
He took the pen and made a few scribbles and adjustments before passing the sheet back to her. “This is how most people write an ad.”
Willow read the note under her breath. “We are a family of four and are looking for part-time house help. It is our preference to barter food and fiber items in exchange for the work, but will also consider monetary compensation. Please inquire at Walden Farm or call 555-3525.”
Her nose wrinkled as she looked at Chad. “But it’s a grammatical nightmare. You also removed the possibility of payment.”
“See if anyone will barter first. If we get no calls this week, then we’ll add that to next week’s. Why tell them it’s a possibility until we know if we need that possibility or not?”
Willow’s arms slid around her husband’s waist. “And that is why I married you. I needed someone to tell me how to live in this crazy world of yours.”
Chad finished his coffee in one gulp and then reached for his coat. It was time to take Lacy for her ride. He kissed her temple on his way to the door and then paused as he stepped outside. “Well, that and you were awfully curious about smooching. I heard the end of North and South so many-“ He slammed the door quickly before her soggy dishcloth could smack him in the face.
***
The ad came out in Wednesday’s paper. To Chad and Willow’s great surprise, they had four calls within the hour that the paper was likely delivered. The next day, two more calls came and then they received a call from Aggie. After speaking to her for a few minutes, Willow disconnected the call and raced to the barn where Chad was feeding Lacey and the goats. “Chad! Aggie just called about the ad—“
“Aggie wants to work here? Is she nuts?”
Playfully, Willow shoved him and reached up to pat Lacey. Absently, and much to Chad’s stunned amusement, she stroked the horse’s neck as she continued with her news. “If you’d let me finish… She said that she has a friend who lives in Ferndale. Iris…” Willow glanced at the pad of paper in her other hand. “Landry. I guess they helped Aggie a lot when she first got the children and moved out to their place. She said Iris was a wealth of wisdom and a hard worker. When she saw the ad she called Iris and told her about it and Iris said she’d love to work in exchange for fresh food and yarn!” Willow hesitated. “Her only stipulation is that she’d have to bring her son with her. He’s almost thirteen, though, so he shouldn’t be too loud and rough, should he?”
“What’s wrong with loud and rough?”
Nearly sending Chad into a seizure in trying to keep from reacting, Willow laid her head against the horse and sighed. “I am not bringing someone out here to make more work. Loud and rough means babies that don’t sleep. What’s the point of hiring help if they undo all you gain by hiring them?”
She stepped away from the horse, brushed her hands off on her jeans, and started toward the door talking all the while. “So what do you think? Should I call her or not? I like that she has such a good reference, but that boy…”
“Would you have Aggie out here if Laird or Tavish came with her?”
“Definitely.”
“There’s your answer then.”
“Thank you! I’ll call her right now before the boys wake up again.”
At the barn door, she turned wide-eyed and stared at Chad and his equine friend. “Did I just touch that animal?”
“You not only touched her, you stroked her neck and snuggled up against her.”
Willow shuddered visibly. “This is proof that I need some help.” She shuddered again blinking very slowly as if trying to gain self-control. Her eyes narrowed slightly and she glared at Chad. “You enjoyed that.”
“Just a little, yes.” He met her icy eyes and sighed. “Ok, so I barely contained my helpless laughter. It was pretty funny.”
To his surprise, she retraced her steps until she stood nearly at his shoulder with Chad between her and the horse. “Do not ever stand by and watch me put myself in a situation like that again. If I want to cuddle up to that beast, I’ll do it, but it’s very unjust of you to let me do it unknowingly.”
As he watched her leave again, he shook his head and fed Lacy another carrot. “They talk about no fury like a woman scorned? Forget it Lace… the real fury comes when they’re scared out of their wits.”
In the house, Willow leaned against the back door, shaking. She had all sorts of theories as to why horses terrified her as they did, but none of them made sense. All she knew was that they did and she hated how she lost all sense of logic and reason the moment she was around them. Weakly she pushed herself away from the door and grabbed her journal. According to her calculations, she was two weeks behind on her Christmas gifts. She could get an early start on butchering chickens, or work on gifts. A glance at the clock told her she had an hour at most.
The sound of Chad’s boots on the back step made her decision for her. She just couldn’t go back outside in the cold right now. She sighed. “More like you can’t stand to go near that animal right now,” she muttered under her breath.
While Chad loaded the wood boxes for the stoves, Willow went upstairs to the craft room and pulled out a box. She’d work on the boys’ main gift while she and Chad talked. He might even be able to keep them occupied so she could make some serious progress on it.
“Did you get a hold of the woman—Iris?”
“Oh! No, I need to call. Thank you.”
This was a great surprise. She’d never been forgetful. Chad started to chalk it up to putting too much pressure on herself until he remembered the horse. He’d have to ask about that sometime. Right now, he had a project of his own. The boys were starting to crawl and they worked constantly to keep the lads away from the stoves and the stairs. If he could build fences and gates, it’d save a lot of concern.
Several minutes later, she danced into the room and pulled out her box of felt squares. “She says she can start Monday and thanked me for the opportunity.”
“Did you work out payment?”
“I’m ‘paying’ her twelve dollars an hour. From her earnings, she’s buying anything we produce that she wants at a 10% discount. On the first of every month, we’ll settle up. Either she’ll take more food home to make us even, or I’ll give her cash.”
“Sounds fair.” He pulled out a fence picket from his pile, spread it on top of a tack cloth, and grabbed his sandpaper.
“What are you doing?”
“Making a fence for the stove. I thought it might as well be attractive. I knew you’d never go for a plywood box.”
“I think Mother has something like that up in the attic. I know there are pictures somewhere of a fence-like thing around this stove and the one in the kitchen. I don’t think she made one for the upstairs.”
Before she finished talking, Chad was racing up the stairs. She reached for a cutout of a sun and the letter S and chose a light blue square. With orange embroidery floss, she carefully stitched the sun to the block. By the time she finished, she heard the faint cry of, “Eureka!” from the upstairs.
Minutes later, Chad came downstairs with something wrapped in a huge blanket. “It’s covered in dust. I thought I’d take it outside and sweep it off there.”
“Is that all of it?”
“No, this is just one side. It looks like it attaches directly to the wall I saw several more pieces so I think the kitchen one is up there too.”
While Willow sewed trains, umbrellas, violets, and wagons to block squares, Chad carried down huge sections of fencing to the front porch. He took a broom out and swept them carefully and then brought them into the kitchen to wipe them down well. “I thought about hosing them off, but I was afraid they’d just freeze and then melt all over the floor.”
“They would. I tried that with the hearth tools when I was six. Mother was very irritated.”
“Honest mistake…”
“Yes, but then I was told not to mess with them in the first place. I thought I knew more than she did.”
“You were a little stubborn…”
She laughed at his studied air of diplomacy. “I still am, and you know it.”
As Chad assembled the fences around the stoves, he and Willow made their Thanksgiving plans. The Tesdalls and Finley parents both had plans with other family members. They’d also both invited Chad and Willow to join them, but the couple had declined. They wanted their first Thanksgiving with the boys to be at their own home.
“We could invite Ryder. I heard him talking to someone on his phone the other day that his parents were going to be gone all weekend. Apparently they’re going skiing in Aspen for Thanksgiving.”
“They didn’t invite their own son to join them?” The idea seemed impossible to her.
“Apparently they need ‘us’ time.”
“Translating into ‘You aren’t becoming a high powered professional in a highly successful field, therefore we’ll punish you in the hopes that you’ll feel guilty enough to switch majors before it’s too late.”
The cattiness in Willow’s voice was so out of character, that Chad dropped his screwdriver. “I can’t believe what I just heard.”
“I know it’s awful, but it’s true. That poor boy works so hard out there and is doing amazing things. He’s working on cultivating all new plants—well, old ones really. He’s trying to turn the entire greenhouse into heirloom plants. It’s amazing what he can do and his parents refuse to recognize it.”
“And if Lucas or Liam chooses a life like Bill’s in Rockland, will you accept it as equally valid and important as the life you’ve chosen?”
Shock filled Willow’s face making Chad think he’d driven his point home well. However, her words reminded him, once again, that his wife was not your average woman. “I can’t believe you’d assume otherwise! He’s my son! He lives his own life just as I chose mine. I didn’t have to stay here. Mother made it plain, the whole time I was growing up, that the day would come that I’d have to choose whether I wanted to keep my life as it was or change it. I changed it drastically.”
“You stayed here—“
He should have known, he realized later, that the moment she laid down her sewing with deliberate patience, eyes welling with tears, that he’d dismissed much of what she’d done for him with those three insensitive words. “Chad, you forget that I am not living my mother’s life.” She swallowed hard. “I invited you into my home. I invited the Varneys, the Allens, and Bill into my life. I took an isolated farm and made it welcome people who would have been met with a shotgun in my mother’s lifetime. I added cell phones, laptops, and DVDs to my life. I increased production of food and expanded our property to accommodate it. I did that to serve people my mother would never have spoken to. I got married. I did the one thing that my mother feared most. I let a man into our home, willingly. I let him hold me, love me, and together we became parents– the thing my mother feared only slightly less than men in general.”
Chad started to interrupt, but Willow plowed through his words continuing her own at a slightly higher pitch. “I confronted my grandfather, learned to pity and then fear my grandmother, and in general, turned my life upside down.” After another deep breath she stood. “I very nearly moved to the city and took a job as a children’s clothing designer and store manager, and you can sit there and tell me my life is no different than it was when I was, say, ten years old. I don’t know whether to laugh, feel hurt, or just insulted.”
Stunned into silence, Chad watched slack-jawed as his wife opened the front door and closed it firmly behind her. He jumped to follow, but cries of consciousness from the boy’s room stopped him. If he knew Willow, she was far enough away from the house already to be unable to hear them. Shoulders slumped, he hurried upstairs to greet his sons.
Liam clapped happily in the crib at the sight of Chad, but Lucas slept through the noise his brother made without stirring. Even when Liam fell over, his head landing on Lucas’ feet, the baby didn’t move. Alarmed, Chad placed his hand on the boy’s back and sighed with relief as he felt the rise and fall of the little boy’s chest. He moved his hand to the lad’s forehead, but Lucas was as comfortably warm as any baby should be and not a smidge more.
As he grabbed the ‘diaper basket’ and hurried to their bedroom to change a soggy Liam, Chad realized his own life was vastly different than he’d intended as well. By now, he’d planned to be expecting a move to the Rockland police force if not on it already. Instead, he was in an old farmhouse, sans electricity, diapering a child with what Willow insisted on calling “washable” diapers as opposed to “disposable”, and milking six goats every morning. Just as he dumped the soggy diaper into the pail in the bathroom, another thought hit him. He was also living his dream of being a police officer. His dream had expanded and changed to suit new dreams—much like Willow.
Liam sucked contentedly on his bottle as Chad dialed the Allen’s home. Even as he did it, he realized the irony of choosing to bring in the Allens for help instead of calling his mother or the Finleys. What had seemed like such an affront at one time, was his first reaction. Would he ever learn the kind of wisdom and discernment that his father seemed to exude naturally?
Lucas awoke the moment Chad saw the Allen’s car coming up the drive. He opened the front door, despite the frigid temperatures, and hurried upstairs to grab his other son. Liam tried to escape their bedroom as Chad changed another soggy diaper until he finally shut the door in the adventuresome tyke’s face. “You stay in here. The last thing I need is you falling down the stairs. That wouldn’t go over very well.
The sound of Lily calling him sent Chad into a rushed frenzy of snaps, soakers, and a fresh pair of sweat pants that did not match the carefully tailored striped shirt Lucas had been wearing with the funny overalls that Willow always made. With a boy in each arm, giggling and laughing as they played their private games with each other, he hurried to greet Lily and Tabitha. “Thanks for coming out. I really blew it this time and we need to talk.”
“Everyone has those moments in their marriage, Chad. That is something you both have to learn and deal with.”
Passing the boys to his rescuers, Chad grabbed his jacket. “Thanks Lily. I’ll be back in a while.”
“Chad?”
He popped his head back in the door, “Yeah?”
“I don’t know what the problem is, but I just thought of something on my way over.”
“What was that?”
Lily snuggled with Liam for a second and then pointed to the huge barn behind the house and the vehicles out front. “In less than three years, her life has turned upside down. For twenty-two years she lived one way and now she’s living another. On top of mothering responsibilities, it’s probably all hitting her at once.”
Chad nodded and shut the door behind him. “Looks like everyone has realized that but me,” he murmured under his breath as he pulled his collar up around his neck and started looking for footsteps.
Willow hummed her favorite song from Chad’s Argosy CD. Occasionally, she’d sing a line or part of a line, before returning to her absent minded hum. “…my mother, she’s my sweetheart…”
“Lass, you were sleeping on the swing when I got home last night.”
“Mmm hmm. I heard the babies around four and came inside.”
“When you weren’t in bed, I went looking for you.”
She turned, an egg clinging to the spatula as she stared at him curiously. “Does that bother you? My sleeping outside I mean. I thought you didn’t care…”
He hastened to assure her that wasn’t his concern. “Of course not. I wouldn’t have made the extender if it bothered me; I just wondered…”
The egg slid back into the pan just before the yolk broke. “Wondered what?”
“It looked like you’d been crying.”
As she buttered the pancakes coming off the griddle, Willow told Chad about her evening. “The boys went down early. I think they’re getting more teeth or coming down with something because they’ve both been so sleepy the past couple of days. Anyway,” she shook her head as though trying to clear the fuzz from her thoughts. “I went out onto the swing for a while and was having a nice chat with the Lord.”
From his chair, as he ate the stack of pancakes and his fried eggs, Chad listened as Willow talked about her tryst with the Lord. She spoke of her prayers for him and his safety, for the town and for their appreciation for all the police and firefighters did to protect them, and for wisdom for the town council regarding several issues facing the community. “I just felt…” she struggled for the word. “Well, burdened about it.”
“I know what you mean. I’ve been praying for the town a lot in past weeks.”
“Well, from there it went to your family and Mother’s…”
Chad only half-listened, his mind mulling the tendency for her to consider the Finley’s her mother’s family rather than her own. He noticed she’d stopped speaking and was looking at him expectantly. “I’m sorry, you said something that distracted me. What did I miss?”
“I asked if Cheri was taking the trip to the missionaries in Guatemala or not.”
“Yes, she is.”
“Good. I prayed about it and then suddenly felt ridiculous for praying for something I didn’t know for sure was happening.” She stabbed her pancake stack with her fork. “Anyway, that led me into praying for the boys, and their health and growth and their relationship with us and the Lord. Before I knew it, I was praying about our home, our lives, and suddenly I was overwhelmed with just how blessed we are. Gratitude like I’ve never felt before almost smothered me. I don’t know how else to explain it. I was sobbing, but it was a good and thankful sob. Weird, I know.”
“A good sob?” Chad understood a woman’s happy tears, as much as a man who hates feminine tears can. His mother and sister had drilled the concept into his head at a very young age. However, happy sobs—grateful sobs—were something he couldn’t comprehend. To his mind, only Willow was capable of taking a basic fundamental feminine accomplishment and turning it into a full scale production.
“I’ve never felt or done anything like it before, and I’ll be honest, I hope I don’t again. It was good, but I’m still wiped out from it.”
As though the words were their cue, both boys sent up wails of sogginess and hunger. Willow wearily started to rise, but Chad jumped to his feet and gently pushed her shoulders back into the chair. “I’ll get them. You finish your breakfast before they start demanding theirs.”
“Too late for that.”
“Well, it’s about time they learned some manners. Clean diapers before breakfast, and ladies first.” Chad’s wink warmed her heart as he turned to collect his sons.
***
September dissolved into October. The leaves that changed to the warm colors of autumn were nearly antithetical to the now crisp and sharply cool weather. The produce stand sold little more than pumpkins these days, but the idea had been a reasonably profitable one. With every passing day, the leaves fell, the grasses died, and the barren bleakness of the upcoming winter crept slowly over Walden Farm.
Ryder, however, kept the plants in the greenhouse growing succulent tomatoes, fresh lettuce, celery, and of course, carrots for Lacey. Spinach filled their salads, and he was attempting to try watermelon. He also had great plans to plant five acres of Christmas trees in the spring and five more acres each year afterward. He’d convinced Chad that by the time the first crop was mature, the boys would be old enough to take over most of the responsibility of running the trees.
Willow’s days slowed into a smooth seamless rhythm that allowed her to relax and enjoy the dozens of firsts her boys seemed to achieve every week. Some, like first crawls and belly laughs, were balanced by first illnesses and unexplained screaming fits. More often than she or her mother ever could have imagined, Willow poured over her mother’s journals reading information about how to handle a tooth that nearly erupted and then moved back up into the gums, how to make lotion for chapped lips and cheeks that didn’t irritate sensitive skin, and how to double rinse diapers when rashes appeared.
Chad remarked more than once that the journals were nearly priceless. He’d grown concerned that they’d be damaged and worn with so much reference that he’d taken the most pertinent ones for their season of life to work, scanned them into his computer, burned a disk, and then had them printed and bound into a spiral book that she could refer to as often as necessary without fear of damaging the originals.
This had created a new project for Willow. Kari’s journals were written with little regard to organization. When she’d needed gardening information from one or more, she’d copied the information into a specific gardening journal that later she’d organized by dates, crops, and similar ideas. However, she only added information as she needed it, resulting in a lot of information being lost in the original journals until someone read it later and commented.
Armed with sticky-note “flags” that Chad provided, as she nursed the boys, she read through her mother’s journals again but this time with an eye to organization. Gardening topics were marked with green flags, child care, much to Chad’s disgust, with pink, and housework yellow. She had flags for recipes, maintenance, and clothing plans. There were addresses, family history, and enough subgroups that some flag colors had asterisks, boxes, and circles to differentiate between others of the same color.
As the month drew to a close, she’d managed to do all of the fall canning and winter preparation, flag most of the journals, and nothing else. Chad didn’t understand her frustration and despair, but Willow was nearly distraught at the lack of accomplishment in her days.
“I haven’t made their next sets of clothing, I barely got the house wiped down much less scrubbed, and if Ryder wasn’t taking care of the greenhouse, we’d be hurting for next spring.”
“Did you hear yourself? You cleaned the house-“
“Wiped. I didn’t get to really do any serious scrubbing. I’m going to have more work next spring because of it and by then, the boys could be walking which means it’ll be harder than ever to get things done.”
Patiently, Chad tried again. “Willow, wiping is all it needed. You keep a clean house. It didn’t need seriously hard scrubbing. My mother doesn’t scrub our house half as much as you scrub this one.”
“She doesn’t live in the dirt! My house has twice the dirt in it since bringing in the sheep, having vehicles coming up and down the driveway every day, and that horse stirring up dirt in the yard.”
Unaware of how her words sounded, Willow picked up her sleeping son and carried him upstairs to his crib. Chad sat, stunned in his seat. Their changes caused more work, he knew. He’d calculated the time expense of shearing, of more work in the gardens and processing. He’d ensured that what work they added was doable with growing boys that would need more and more of their time the older they grew. He’d even calculated the cost of another pregnancy or two and how to downsize quickly if the demands of family became more than they could handle. The idea of additional housework caused by the animals and vehicles arriving and departing simply had never occurred to him.
He knew that cleanliness was very important to her. The Finley women didn’t spend all of their time working hard and working fast at their work. They took their time, enjoyed the process, and left enough time at the end of the day to relax and do something they enjoyed. Whether reading a book, playing a game, or creating something beautiful just because they could, they kept a part of their life available to refresh themselves in that way. With a sinking heart, Chad realized he hadn’t seen Willow do anything ‘for fun’ in weeks—months even.
He needed to talk to someone before he talked to Willow. His immediate desire to sit her down and go over the situation was only held in check by the lessons he’d learned in how differently Willow thought than most people. Finally, he hurried upstairs and asked if she’d like to take a drive into the city.
“Oh, I’ve got much to much to do today. If you see your mom, tell her the boys are trying to pull up on things and she needs to hurry out here before she misses it.”
“I do think I’ll go by and see them. They have a DVD from Cheri with her trip to Guatemala on it. I’ll burn us a copy so you can see it too.”
The relief Willow felt as Chad drove down the driveway bothered her. The boys were sleeping, the day was unusually warm—nearly sixty degrees, and if she worked quickly, she could cut out several sets of diapers and a couple pairs of Jon-Jons each. Eventually, her tasks drove the discomfort out of her mind as she worked as quickly as possible to get everything accomplished before Liam and Lucas awoke from their morning naps.
Chad drove past the Westbury off-ramp and drove toward the Chesterhill area of Rockland. He passed small bungalows that reminded him of Fairbury, around a park that sent a lump into his throat, and down the Finley’s street to the colonial style home where Willow’s mother had spent her childhood. As a last minute idea, Chad prayed that talking to David was the right answer.
“Chad? Is everything ok?” The voice made Chad spin, hand automatically going to his hip. David Finley grinned at the sight of his “grandson” in ‘cop mode’.
“Oh, hey Granddad. I’ve got something to discuss with you.”
David’s eyes narrowed. “About what?”
“Well, I was talking to Willow this morning, and—“
“Does she know you’re here?”
Frowning, Chad shook his head. “I started to go talk to my parents, but then—“
“I’m not discussing anything with you about Willow without her knowledge.”
Without skipping a beat, Chad whipped out his phone and dialed home. He told Willow about his visit and passed the phone to David. Within minutes, both men zipped along the highway back to Fairbury and Willow stared at the floor of her living room in dismay. “I can’t believe my cutting fest is—“ She interrupted herself. “I don’t care. I’m cutting and they can talk around it for all I care.”
When the men arrived, they found Willow elbow deep in flannel, corduroy, and denim. “Just walk around the mess. I decided I have to get this done before the boys wake up.”
Stacks of cut diapers, threatened to topple as the men threaded their way through the room, but Willow kept cutting. David watched her with concern growing in his eyes. Chad cleared his throat and nodded as Willow’s grandfather raised an inquiring eye. “This is why I went looking for help. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t expecting too much of us with all the changes.”
“What’s going on around here? I’ve never seen Willow look frazzled before.”
Willow’s head rose wearily and shrugged her shoulders. “There’s work to do and no time to get it all done. I do what I can, Chad does what he can, and we’re both pretty thankful for Ryder these days.”
“Are you expecting too much of yourself, Willow?” The gentleness in David’s voice soothed away any hint of condemnation.
“What do you mean?”
“You have a lot on your plate, girl. Are you expecting a bit more out of yourself than you can handle?”
“I’m doing no more than mother did.”
“You have twice the children she had—“ Chad took his cue from David and spoke cautiously.
“And I have a husband when she didn’t.”
“You have more animals and more land cultivated…” David knew, even as he spoke, they were taking the wrong direction.
“And I have Ryder and Chad to help with those.” She looked up at the men confused. “Are you here to tell me that we need to change how we live?”
“No!” The men’s voices echoed through the room in unison.
Chad shook his head vehemently. “I brought David here to help us see how to accomplish everything we want to and if I’ve added too much of a burden on you. I feel like I’ve let my ideas and dreams for this place override your personal workload and comfort, but I knew if I said that, you’d object.” His voice grew more intense as he prevented her interjectory objections.
“What do you see as adding too much to her plate?” David wanted to get to the root without letting either of them grow defensive.
“Well, until today, I didn’t realize how much just adding traffic to the driveway added to her workload. Before we got married, I don’t think she noticed the extra dust that my truck stirred up around here. But add extra animals, Ryder coming and going, Jill coming and going, and then family and friends visiting, not to mention the produce traffic when the stand is open, and her workload is increased exponentially just keeping abreast of the dirt.”
The defeated look on Willow’s face bothered David. “What is it, Willow?”
“I didn’t realize the dirt bothered him too. I thought it was just me.”
“I didn’t even notice it, Lass. I just know how much cleanliness is important to you, and I’ve made it hard for that to happen.”
Confused, David shook his head. “Ok, what do you see that is bothering you, Chad.”
“I see Willow working harder than ever, faster than ever, and never having any time to relax. She’s always glowed with life and loved what she does. I don’t think she resents her life, but I can see she doesn’t love it like she did, and I think I’ve contributed to that. I want to know how to fix it.”
“Oh, I don’t think so, Chad. It’s just adjusting to a new way of living with the boys. Once I’m—“
“I see it too, Willow. You look weary. I saw you cutting out clothing for the boys before they were born and while it was work, it seemed almost leisurely. Here, you’re frantic. There are dark circles under your eyes, and I suspect you’re on the verge of tears at the idea the boys might wake up before you finish.”
As if given permission, the tears flowed freely as David spoke. “I don’t want anything to change, but…”
Chad tried to take the scissors from her, but Willow jerked away from him. “Sit down and stay out of my way. I have to finish—“
“See what I mean? What you loved to do has now become a burden. You know that all I have to do is speak the word, and my mother will show up at the door with bags of clothing. You don’t have to do this and part of you still wants to do it, but there is also a part that feels burdened by it.”
Her vision blurred as tears obscured the fabric pieces she tried to cut. Dropping the scissors, she pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her skirt around her legs, and dropped her head to her knees. As if it was a perfectly logical time to comment, she added one last desperate whisper, “I can’t get rid of the leftover baby weight either.”
The men stared at each other in horror. A discussion of work, expectations, and plans was reasonable in their minds. Adding in weight and tears made both of them miserably uncomfortable. Instinctively, they knew they were in for a difficult discussion.
“Lass, what does—“
David interrupted quickly. “Ok, well I have a question.” Frowning at Chad and giving him a quick shake of the head, David Finley drew upon years of dealing with women and stopped Chad from escalating the focus on her appearance. “What is most important to you? Is it doing everything yourself because that is the life you want to live, or is it having the benefits of the life regardless of who does the work?” He watched the gears start and put his hand up. “Don’t think, answer with your gut. You can change your mind later. I want to know your gut answer.”
“Live my life regardless of the division of labor.”
At the corner of the couch, Chad relaxed visibly. David nodded understandingly. “That’s a very good way to put it. I have another question.”
“Shoot.”
“What is keeping you from working at a reasonable pace and doing the things you love to do?”
“The interruptions. The boys need me right when I’m in the middle of something so I have to leave it. Then, when I return, I often have more work than ever because I have to undo what dried out, or caked on, or whatever while I was with the boys.”
“Are you mothering your sons or are you making yourself a slave to them?”
Protest died on Willow’s lips as Chad sucked in air and his eyes grew wide. “That is a very insightful question. I think you may have a point.”
“You think I—“
“I don’t think anything, Lass. I just heard the question at the same time you did, but immediately, I thought of the way you drop everything when the boys want you and I could see why Granddad asked the question.”
“I do that, don’t I?” A frown wrinkled her forehead as she thought about the question. “I didn’t—not at first. I’m sure of it.”
“You don’t with the phone. If you’re doing anything when it rings, you wait until you’re at a reasonable stopping point before you answer. If it stops ringing, you finish all together and then go listen to voice mail. But the minute either of them stir, you’re there.”
“But I didn’t do it at first, right? I remember deliberately making them wait sometimes.”
“I think,” Chad answered as he tried to recall what started it, “It started when the boys got louder.”
“Ok, so we know,” David interjected before they got too far off topic, “That you do need to consider how to teach them to entertain themselves while you finish things that shouldn’t be left standing or are almost done. That alone will help with the frustration level.”
“What about the work I’ve added with the expansion?”
“Is it profitable?” David’s mind was already into a business solution.
“What?”
“The changes you’ve made. Are you making a profit yet?”
“As in have we repaid everything we’ve spent and now are earning money or are we bringing in more than we’re putting out now?” Willow stood even as she asked, and went for the hand written ledgers that she kept. Her meticulous lines of expenses vs. income on old fashioned ledgers drove Chad crazy. He’d tried to show her how easy it’d be to run a bookkeeping software program on his laptop, but Willow wanted nothing to do with it.
“Well, I want to know if right now, your income is greater than your outgo.”
Chad and Willow nodded simultaneously. “Definitely,” Chad said. “It’s lower now that the produce stand is over, but we still have the chickens for meat and eggs, the produce we sell Jill, and of course, we don’t have much in the way of expenses to begin with.”
David looked at the numbers. “When Carol is feeling overwhelmed at home, she always says, “I wish the chef fairies wouldn’t have gone on strike this week. I could use them.”
Willow giggled. “Mother used to say that about the dishes.”
“If you could have fairies to come and do part of the work while you were sleeping, what would they do?”
To Chad, the question was brilliant. He’d never have thought to ask the question in a way that he instinctively knew she’d answer truthfully. Willow’s answer surprised him. “I think right now, the laundry, everything in the greenhouse, and maybe watching the boys for a while every now and then so I could do some of the other things I want to get done. Maybe a little cleaning too.”
Before Chad could voice the surprise on his face and ruin a moment of open honesty, David leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees and his hands clasped together. “My advice, Willow-my-wisp, is hire a fairy. You two can obviously afford it, you aren’t trying to prove anything to anyone here, and you don’t have to do it forever. Just do it until you feel confident that you can and want to do the work again yourself. I have a feeling you just need a little time to adjust. Farms, for centuries, have had hired help to do some of the work both indoors and out. Why does this have to be any different?”
Chad and Willow stared at one another with questions in their eyes and answers in their hearts. Willow glanced back at her grandfather. “Hire someone, huh? For how long? Indefinitely?”
“As I said, however long you need. Just until you adjust or if you discover you like it, keep them on as long as you can afford it. Talk to Bill Franklin about it and see what he thinks of the long-term affect on your finances. If you want to take over some of the jobs again, take them on one at a time until you are confident again.”
Willow jumped from her place on the floor, leapt over the stacks of cut clothing and diapers toppling one in the process, and wrapped her arms around her grandfather. “I think you’re the most brilliant and wonderful granddad ever.”
“Gee, thanks. Glad he thought to come out here and offer help…” Chad’s tone held a deliberate aggrieved air.
With a grin at David, Willow jumped to the other couch and into Chad’s lap. “—but I think you’re the world’s best and most considerately thoughtful husband in the universe.” She tossed a wink back at David again. “The handsomest too!”
“I think you’re both nuts,” David said as he rose to answer the wailing duet from upstairs.
“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?
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?”
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.”
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.”
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.
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.
- 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.”
- 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.”
“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.”
- 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.”
- 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.”
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.
“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.”
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.
- 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.”
- “Four more month’s Lord… just four more months…”
I thought it’d be a lot of fun to have a contest for naming Chad and Willow’s twins! So… here’s how it’ll work. List your names… boy, girl, whatever… I’m not telling what they’re having but you’ll have hints coming too.
As the ultimate prize… I’m purchasing…
From DCB Collectibles for the winner! The figurines will be shipped directly from the seller so you’ll have to be willing for me to give them your address in order to win.
Rules-
Only five names per day per person. Anyone who is old enough to type the name (either copying from your list or spelling it on their own) is elligible to win.
The contest will not end until the babies are born and their names are announced. So, you have lots of time! I reserve the right to change names I have planned on at this time for names suggested if someone suggests something I like better.
“She should have been home an hour ago even if she walked all the way home with a flat.”
“It’s awfully hot out there Chad,” Luke agreed. “Why don’t you go find her. I’ll bet she’s got a flat and is walking really slowly.”
“I can’t figure out why she isn’t answering the cell.” Even as he said it, Chad realized why. She’d been in the store and had instinctively switched it back off when he called. The desire to bang his head against the wall became strangely appealing.
“Go Chad. We’ll make sandwiches and kick back on your porch.”
“The electric is on. Feel free to pull the fan out there to cool off.”
Without waiting for a reply, Chad rushed to the truck and whipped it around sending dust clouds everywhere. Three times he drove back and forth between town and his house before he saw Willow’s bicycle leaning against a tree about a hundred yards from the road. He pulled into an outlet fifty feet away and turned off the truck. He didn’t see Willow but as he reached the bicycle, he saw her lying on the ground half hidden by summer grasses. Before Chad woke her, he carried her bicycle to the truck and stowed it in back.
Kneeling beside her, he brushed the tendrils away from her forehead and whispered, “Lass… let’s get you home.”
She barely stirred. A few more whispered words did little to rouse her. However, Willow did manage to wrap her arms around his leg holding it close to her cheek. Stifling a laugh, Chad tried again this time lifting her head onto his knee as he settled down next to her. “Willow? Come on now, you’re going to be eaten by bugs. Let’s get you home.”
Her green eyes blinked uncomprehendingly at him several times. “Chad? Is everything ok?”
“Well, now that I found you-“
“I was lost?”
He nodded. “But now you’re found.”
“I’m not blind though- I see just fine.” She sat up and looked around her somewhat dazed. “What are we doing here?”
“I was hoping you’d tell me that. When you didn’t come home by lunch, I went looking for you. Your phone’s off.”
“I forgot to turn it on after the store. I don’t remember coming over here.”
“What do you remember?” This wasn’t something he expected.
“I remember riding home. It was hot and my legs didn’t want to keep riding. I stopped on the road…” She thought for a moment and then shrugged. “After that, I just don’t remember.”
“I think you got overtired. How do you feel?”
“Thirsty.”
Chad led her to his truck, slammed the door shut behind her, and looked heavenward. “Lord, what am I supposed to do with her?”
“Did you say it was lunch time?”
Nodding, Chad made a u-turn and zipped toward home. “Yep. Half an hour ago or so. That’s when I noticed you weren’t home.”
“The guys must be starving. I’m so sorry.”
“They’re making sandwiches and relaxing on the porch as we speak.”
- Where’s the stuff I bought?”
“In the back of the truck with your bike.” Chad drummed the steering wheel with his thumb as he carried on a private inward debate. “Will you do something for me Lass?”
“Sure.”
“No more trips to town, especially in this heat, until your exhaustion is past? It bothers me that you don’t remember walking to the side of the road.”
She nodded as he pulled into the driveway. “I’m just not used to having to think about whether I can make it home or not. It’s such an easy ride that-“
“You’re riding for three. Maybe that’s why.”
Willow groaned as she climbed from the cab of the truck. “Chad my dear, that is going to get very old, very quickly.”
“Go lay down. I’ll bring you water and a sandwich.”
“That however,” she continued grinning, “will not get old for a long time.”
***
September-
I’m still sleeping more than usual but not quite as much as I was. At ten weeks, my body seems to have adjusted to things much more than they were at first. I occasionally feel a bit peaked in the evening but resting, the cooler weather, and lemonade seems to really help. I drink a lot of lemonade these days. Chad says I’m going to have children with very sour dispositions.
The bulk of the canning is over now. I’m working on pumpkin, apples, and some of the fruit that we froze until I had time to can it. Odd way to do things but it’s working. I planted my first set of fall crops in the greenhouse. As of today, the entire thing is being utilized to its fullest potential with the exception of hanging planters. Chad was planning to build me some but with the rush to finish the barn, it looks like we’ll be ordering them instead. The manufacturer of our kit makes great accessories that are, in my opinion, ridiculously expensive but Chad assures me they’re worth the investment. He says what I’ve made in produce sales this year has already paid for half the cost of the greenhouse and its installation so I guess it really will be worth it.
We realized last night that we forgot to tell Grandmother and Grandfather Finley about the babies. I’ve written them a letter and enclosed it in a special “announcement card” that I made. I said that babies are twice as nice when they come in double portions. Chad said it was cheesy but he couldn’t keep that cheesy grin off his face a he said it so I know he was pleased.
I wonder why I find it so difficult to include Mother’s family in my life. I keep trying- but I forget. I know they feel rejected by me- Grandmother has said as much. I never know how to answer. It is never deliberate but how can I argue with the facts. I do ignore them. I do forget them. When I do think of them, it is at the most inopportune times like in the middle of making candles or butchering chickens. It’s not like I can just stop and pick up the phone. And, I really don’t like the phone anyway. I do need to do better about it. I don’t know how but I do.
Chad’s making two cradles from kits he bought online. He says one will go on each side of the bed. I’m glad I have a big room. I think I’ll be removing the bed tables when the time comes so that the babies are in easy reach. Oh, and he’s hysterical with the diaper snaps. I bought a tool for hammering snaps onto the diapers to make them pinless and it is Chad’s job to “install” them. He loves pounding those things into place. Who knew? Thus far we have two half finished cribs and two dozen diapers. I have a feeling that might get us through one or two days of diapering maximum. I’ll be making a few dozen more. Mom says to make sure I make the next two sizes now while I have time because I won’t when the babies arrive.
Mom is here now. She’s been here for a week. Cheri came for a week last month and we got the rest of the late tomatoes canned, the peaches and most of the berries. She worked hard and as much as she grumbled at first, I think she liked it. She’s learned to spin as well as I can but she has absolutely no interest in doing anything with the wool no mater how much I try to teach her.
We’ve been making clothes for me. I need them already. Mom said she didn’t ‘show’ until her sixth month with Chris but she said that he was a small baby anyway and of course, there was just Chris growing. I love what we’ve made so far and she found me several pairs of flannel lined maternity overalls for winter. They’re going to be great.
Dr. Weisenberg says that everything is growing on schedule. I don’t have to have another ultrasound in November but he does want one in December. He says we’ll be able to tell if they’re boys, girls, or one of each. I’m hoping for one of each myself. Chad wants us to find out. I don’t want to know. I think we’ll probably end up finding out though. He doesn’t ask for much so if knowing makes him happy, we’ll let him know.
Willow pushed the journal away from her. Marianne was sleeping, the animals were all happy outdoors, and Chad was at work. It was a perfect night for fishing. She flipped open her phone and called Chad. “I want to go fishing.”
“So go.”
“You wouldn’t mind?”
“As long as someone knows where to find you if you decide to sleep over with the fishes- not sleep with the fishes, that’s out of the question- but if you want a sleepover, I want to know about it.” Chad’s joke fell flat even as he made it.
“I don’t get it.”
“Just have fun and bring home dinner.”
Willow snapped the phone shut and grabbed a piece of paper. She wrote a note, grabbed her sweater and outdoor blanket, and slipped out the back door. Unlike most of their dogs, Portia was content to lie quietly beside her as she fished. With rod and tackle box in hand, Willow whistled for her dog and took off toward her favorite fishing hole, the moon lighting her path as though out just to make the walk pleasant for her.
Retracing steps she’d made hundreds of times before, Willow slowly regained a natural rhythm of walking, praying, and just being with the Lord. However, by the time she arrived at her favorite tree, Willow had new thoughts swirling in her mind. Had her mother walked to the hole while carrying Willow? Did she fish back then? Her memory of Kari’s journals didn’t find answers to her questions but the first year’s journals were much less prolific than subsequent years. Did her mother love the night air, the cool breezes, and the sound of water splashing over rocks a little ways down stream?
For the next hour, Willow pounded heaven with questions about her mother that she’d never thought to ask before the news of her pregnancy. She prayed for wisdom, strength, and courage. Eventually, her prayers disappeared into day dreams until she curled up on the blanket and smiled as she pictured Chad teaching a little boy how to milk a goat or burn the trash. Her mind took her into the future with pictures of him explaining rainbows and why things are the colors they are. Small hands folded in earnest prayer for ‘daddy’s safety at work’ tugged at blossoming maternal heartstrings until Willow thought she’d go crazy waiting for the next thirty weeks to pass.
Memories of little Ian nestled in her arms, his little fist curled around her finger assaulted her emotions until it seemed nearly unbearable to wait. She chuckled at her own foolishness. Clearly, the hormonal excesses she’d been warned about were real. She was acting like a crazed woman. The babies would come sooner than she’d be ready for them.
Somewhere between her plans for a double crib and her last sip of water, Willow fell asleep. She dreamed of walking to town in a thunderstorm to give birth to two babies the size of toddlers. Chad drove as fast as he could behind her but never caught up to her until she reached the doors of the hospital. Babies with teeth grinned at her from their bassinettes while everyone commented on how tiny they were but reassuring her that it was ‘to be expected with twins’.
***
Chad saw the note on the kitchen table and climbed the stairs to see if Willow was home yet or not. Seeing their empty bed, he made a quick sandwich and started off for the fishing hole. He’d spent many nights out under the stars with Willow, fishing, talking, and sometimes sleeping. He’d find her under her favorite tree, curled on the blanket, and if experience taught him anything, with Portia standing- well most likely laying- guard over her.
“She called Lord. She remembered. Maybe our little Mrs. Independence has finally gotten a handle on life with responsibilities toward other people.” He paused, hating how his words sounded aloud. “And I need to remember that someone who has spent most of her life alone, needs that freedom from time to time. I’ll squash who she is if I keep expecting her to fit into the mold of my experience.”
At the top of the hill before the descent to the stream, Chad paused. There, nestled beneath trees who had protected her for most of her life, Willow slept, Portia laying beside her as expected. The dog’s head rose at the sound of his movement and his scent on the breeze. She glanced in Chad’s direction and then laid her head back on her paws as though to say, “Well, you didn’t think I’d let anything happen to her, did you?”
Chad nudged his wife. “Willow. Hey Lass, it’s time to wake up. You’ll sleep better in your bed.”
She sat up blinking. “I guess I fell asleep.”
“Catch anything?”
Willow pointed to the bucket in the stream. “Half a dozen.” She glanced around. “Is it two already?”
“Two-thirty.” He pulled her to her feet. “This is becoming a habit with us.”
“What?” Willow grabbed her tackle box.
“Finding you sleeping under a tree. It feels like it should be some kind of fairy tale.”
“Sleeping Mommy.”
August-
The exhaustion is overwhelming. My doctor warned me of the nausea but I’ve hardly noticed any. However, the sleepiness… I have never been so sleepy. I wake up and make food, milk the goats, and then I take a nap. I get up, drink some water, rush to the bathroom, and check the plants and sheep before I go to bed again. Later I wake up and finish some work, putter around with Chad or wait for him to get home, and fall asleep again. The doctor says it’s normal. I feel terribly lazy but when I can’t work anymore, I assume I need the sleep so I sleep.
The doctor showed us the little TV screen today. On the screen were two ovals. Two separate ovals. My plans to find a midwife and stay home like Mother are over. I carry twins. Two babies. Chad will not agree to my staying home to give birth- especially with the apparent risks that people assume with two children. I am not sure why but with the doctor and nurses squawking and clucking like my chickens, it was easier to just agree. Dr. Walston has referred me to Dr. Weisenburg in Fairbury. It makes the doctor visits less of a nuisance I guess. They want me in there every four weeks!
Meanwhile, although I shouldn’t be ‘showing’ yet, there is a definite change in my physique. My favorite summer shorts, much to Chad’s disappointment, do not fit. I’ve stashed them in the drawer for next year but Mom says that I probably won’t fit into them ever again- especially with twins. I’ve made me two high waisted dresses already just to get the band away from my stomach. I think Chad is sick of them. He asked me twice this week if I didn’t think we should go shopping and get me some new clothes or at least some maternity patterns.
Oh the maternity patterns- they’re horrible. I cannot stand them. Everything is either too revealing or too much like wearing a sacque. I’m not interested in that look. So, I’ll be designing something for me but I don’t know what yet. Aggie said that she wants a copy of every one of my patterns for their next child. She also recommends I find a way to make a few pretty things ‘nurseable’. She says most nursing clothes- I didn’t know they had special clothes for nursing- are just as awful as maternity. Oh boy. A whole new design realm.
And, on that topic, I’m excited about the spring line for Boho. I really love what we came up with and now that they’re almost done, I’ll be able to get started on my own clothes. There are fifteen pieces this year and I had a hard time balancing separates and one piece items but once I looked at everything together, it looked perfect. I think any little girl would have fun wearing clothes that are both cute and practical. That practical side is harder to achieve than the cute though.
It’s time for another nap. Another one. How will I survive nine months of sleeping? Will Chad get tired of filling in for me? He’s already working on the new barn, he’s ordered the new chickens, and he’s got a dozen more ‘irons in the fire’ so to speak. Our lives are growing busier and more complicated than ever and now two babies who are going to need our attention. I can’t carry both on my back all day like Mother did. Even Chad can’t with him gone half the time. Somehow, I’ll have to find a way to make that work. Somehow.
Willow loaded Jill’s truck with produce, soap, candles, and strawberry preserves canned in their now heath department approved kitchen. Chad, caught up in the excitement of dollars and cents, suggested that they sell all the strawberry preserves and buy jam at the store for half the cost and bank the difference. Willow nodded, said it was worth considering, and the next time she went to town, brought home a jar of strawberry preserves from the store. The following morning, she spread each half of a piece of toast with the two options and asked Chad to choose which they’d serve at their table.
He knew the difference immediately and as tempting as it was to save face and money, Chad pointed to Willow’s jar. “I like that one best and you know it.”
“I didn’t know it but I do now.”
“Sometimes a guy has to taste it for himself. Night and day really…” Chad’s words drifted into nothingness as he watched Willow.
A new manila envelope and her coloring pencils sat next to her plate. As she ate, she carefully wrote “Boho Spring Line 2010” in the center near the top and then shadowed the words making them bold. He could predict, having seen the process a dozen times over the past two years exactly what she’d do next. First she’d draw ‘brackets’ around the words connecting them at the corners, then she’d color in the area around the words… yep, there she went.
“Why do you do that?”
“Do what?” Her tongue stuck out of the corner of her mouth as she carefully connected the corners.
“Decorate the envelopes? Do they need to be decorated? With all you have to do and want to do, do envelopes for Boho need the designs on them?”
Willow looked up at him. “Does it bother you? We’ve always tried to make them more attractive…”
“I thought it was just a way to fill the time.”
Laughter rang throughout the kitchen. “Oh Chad, surely you didn’t?”
“Well, yeah…” He felt foolish. Why else would they so painstakingly decorate something that was usually hidden in a box unseen?
“You’ve lived here for a year and half lived here for nearly twice that and you think we need things to fill our time?”
Even as she spoke, Chad realized most women would have been insulted. “Yeah- that was dumb. So why then?”
“Because it’s pretty… and relaxing.”
“But no one sees them Why not make things to relax that you can actually see?”
Willow shrugged looking around the kitchen curiously. “Where would I put them? I don’t have room for pictures on the walls or stuff on shelves. We make what we can use and since we have to have the envelope anyway, we might as well make it pretty.”
The simple logic made him smile. Most of the things his mother or aunts made were proudly displayed somewhere or given as gifts. Willow was happy knowing she’d made it and every time (all three or four of them) that she had to pull out that envelope of fabric swatches, design sketches, and pattern pieces, she’d smile at the beauty in a simple manila folder.
“You should buy white folders. They’d give you a cleaner palate.”
Willow nodded absently as she finished the title area of her envelope. Then, she replaced her pencils in the paper covered soup can probably left over from Kari’s first days in the house, and set them on the window ledge. The envelope tucked behind it and waited for another few minutes of rest and doodling. A thought occurred to her and she pulled the envelope back to her staring at the top curiously.
“No. The tops wouldn’t match. There’s a fine ridge of that manila colored paper at the top of the envelopes. White would stand out and look awkward. We’ve always colored over it but it wears away at that top fold.”
“I have two days off. What do you want to do?”
“Finish the barn. We need that done.”
“Well, we can’t finish in two days…”
“We can make some serious headway…”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Chad began hesitantly. He knew Willow was still uncomfortable with changes and with half the town and family warning him that at any moment she was going to erupt into hormonal tirades, he’d been walking on eggshells in anticipation.
“Oh?”
“Well I thought maybe Luke and Laird could come help. We have that new guy in town too…”
“What new guy?”
“Charlie Janovick. He moved here from Brant’s Corners a couple of months ago. He kept getting calls for repair on this or small remodeling jobs and decided to move. He’s actually living in Joe’s old place.”
“I’ve never seen him at church…”
“He came once but he’s been driving back to Brant’s Corners. This winter he’ll make the switch I think.”
“So you want to hire these men to come help us build the barn?”
Chad nodded. “We need it done before snow flies and the way things are going, I’m not going to make it with just Ryder and Caleb stopping by every now and then.”
“Too bad they don’t do ‘barn raisings’ around here. We could invite the whole church to come help.”
“So you don’t mind?”
“Why would I mind? We have to get it done and I’m barely able to put up a sheet of plywood per day. I’ll never be able to help with the upper ones the way I’m going.”
Chad flipped open his phone as she talked. He called Luke and arranged for his cousin and ‘nephew’ to come immediately. Charlie couldn’t come before four but he promised to try to clear the next day to help as well. In ten minutes, Chad had lined up a full two days work.
Willow stood as Chad made the first call and started to set enough yeast for a few loaves of bread. She pulled out her baking table and started measuring absently as she hummed something indiscernible quietly under her breath. While Chad made notes, calls, and finished his breakfast, he watched his wife mix dough, knead it, and plop it back into bowls to rise. To his surprise, she dropped a kiss on his forehead and went straight to the couch, a minute timer in hand.
Before he could rinse his plate and follow, she was asleep beads of perspiration already forming on her upper lip and forehead. He couldn’t stand it. August was miserably hot in the Finley house and while Chad had acclimated somewhat, he couldn’t handle seeing his wife trying to sleep through the stifling heat. From inside the library closet, he pulled an oscillating fan and dragged it into the living room. He plugged it in and then went to flip on the circuit breaker box. The Finleys only used fans to help them sleep on the hottest of nights but Chad decided that Tesdalls slept with them anytime they needed their rest.
The bread timer went off all too soon. Willow dragged herself from the couch and stared incoherently at the fan for a moment until she realized what Chad had done. In the kitchen, a note was pinned to the cloth covering the bread bowls. “Lass, I’m out at the new barn with Luke and Laird. It’s too hot in here to bake in the stove. Please take it out to the summer kitchen. Oh, and stop by the barn. I’ve got something for you.”
As her hands plowed into the bread kneading it, dusting again with flower, kneading some more, Willow smiled remembering other summer mornings when her mother had come in to find Willow working on the week’s bread and saying, “Why don’t you just bake it in the barn today. The house is hot enough without making it one huge oven.”
By the time Willow finished with the bread, took it to the summer kitchen, and found the men at the barn, Portia was a nervous mess. The minute Willow set foot out the back door with her loaves of bread in their pans, the dog had tried in vain to lead her to the new barn. She circled, dashed away and returned whimpering for Willow to follow. However, Willow, being the uncooperative mistress, chose to ignore the dog in favor of ensuring there was enough defrosted ham, turkey, and baked bread to feed a crew of workers.
At the barn, the men, drenched in sweat, were putting the outside plywood on the walls. Willow’s mind was made up immediately. “Hey, need a hand?” She knew they’d say no and of course, a chorus of ‘we’ve got its’ followed in quick succession.
Chad jumped from the pile of boards he’d been using as a riser and dragged her around the side of the barn. “You sleep ok?”
“Like a baby.”
“Well, you’re sleeping for three right now…”
Willow punched him softly and shook her head. “You said you had something for me?”
Her husband’s kiss surprised her. “Mom said she’d come and bring Aunt Libby if you want company.”
“Will they come next month when I have to do so much canning instead?”
“What about the beans…”
“I’ll fall asleep on them. I know I will. I’d love the company and I could use the help but I’d fall asleep and they’d have wasted a trip.”
Chad nodded. “I’ll se if mom will come for a week next month. What about Cheri? She has a month before school starts. Want me to see if she can come for a week next week and keep whatever you get started going if you drift off?”
The idea sounded promising. “Only if she wants to come. Don’t guilt her into it Chad. Don’t do it.”
She glanced up at the barn. “You guys already have this side basically done. How’d you get those big sheets up so high so fast?”
She watched for a while and then hurried to check on her bread. By the time it was done, the turkey and ham were nearly defrosted, fresh lettuce, tomatoes, and onions washed, sliced, and ready to go on sandwiches, and the last of her cheese decorated a very small saucer. “Time to make cheese I guess,” she muttered absently as she put it all on a tray and carried it to the house. Mint tea was next. She started a glass gallon jar of tea in the sun and then got an idea. Checking the clock, Willow decided she had time before lunch and left Chad a note.
“Chaddie-my-laddie,
I decided to ride my bicycle to town and buy some lemons for lemonade or maybe I’ll by the bottle of lemon juice Mother bought sometimes. It’ll save all that work you like to talk about. I thought about seeing if you needed anything before I go but then I decided I’ll just call. You’d try to drive me if I talk to you first and you’re busy. Just leaving a note in case you try to find me and I’m not here.”
***
Joe watched as Willow Tesdall rode down the street, deposited her helmet in the front basket of her bicycle, and then parked it outside Fairbury Market. What was she doing riding her bicycle to town in this weather? The bank’s digital temperature reading said 98 degrees. Willow chugged a bottle of water and smiled to himself. He’d expected a canteen or something. As she disappeared into the cool market, Joe flipped open his phone. He pointed meaningfully at Aiden Cox as the boy rode by, his helmet dangling from his wrist. Again.
“Hey man, don’t you have the day off?” Chad’s affirmative sent Joe into a lecture. “What are you doing letting your wife ride to town in this weather. The woman is beet red and beat. B-E-A-T.”
Chad’s groan of surprise made Joe back peddle. “Sorry Chad. I thought you knew…”
Unaware that Joe was inadvertently tattling on her, Willow picked out a large bottle of lemon juice, a pineapple, and for Chad, a package of the disgusting ‘American’ cheese that he loved. He could ruin his sandwich with it if he wanted. It took half a dozen tries to find the only package the store sold that said “processed American Cheese” rather than “cheese product” or “cheese food”. Had Chad not showed her, she would never have known.
Just as she reached the cash registers, her phone rang. True to her personal dislike of public phone use, Willow turned it off and waited until she returned to her bicycle to return Chad’s call. “Guess you found my note.”
“Got a call from Joe. He saw you ride up and thought you looked beat. Why didn’t you tell me. I’d have taken-“
“That’s why. You guys are busy and I just wanted to satisfy a whim.”
“A whim?” Chad’s voice sounded unimpressed.
“Yes. I wanted you guys to have lemonade. It just sounded so refreshing.”
“You’re something else Lass. Did you know that?” He hesitated but couldn’t resist. “Want me to run in and get you?”
“No. Work on the barn. All this chattering isn’t getting more walls up, now is it? I’ll be home in thirty minutes or so.”
Half way home, Willow almost regretted the decision. She was hot, sweaty, and her water was gone. The next wave of sleepiness was descending faster than she could ride. Her legs dropped wearily against the pedals barely pushing them down and the resistance of the other leg being pushed up brought the speed of the bicycle to a slow crawl. She wobbled and then stopped pulling the bicycle off the shoulder of the road and stared at the road. She had another three miles to go at least. Her eyes begged to close. The oppressive heat made her feel even more tired until finally, she wheeled the bicycle across the highway, down the ditch, and leaned it against a tree a few dozen yards from the road.
Seconds later, she lay beneath the tree, her tote bag for a pillow, and slept.
The ride to Chad’s parents’ house started out with excited discussions of the birth in April, their plans for expansion and how a baby would or wouldn’t alter those plans, and, much to Chad’s amusement, Willow’s insistence that they stop at her favorite yarn store for baby yarn to start a supply of booties and ’soakers’. Half of what she said went over his head but Chad good naturedly followed her into the store and watched as she chose the softest white yarns he’d ever felt. The other yarn she purchased seemed coarse in comparison.
“What is the difference?”
“This,” Willow answered rubbing the soft skein against her face, “Is for sweaters and booties and all that wonderful stuff next to the skin.”
“And that?” Chad poked at the other yarn thinking it was gravely inferior.
“Soakers. To cover the diapers. It has to be one hundred percent wool so the diaper doesn’t soak through.”
“Soak through? That is the diaper?”
“No, diaper cover.”
“Diapers leak?” Chad was confused. “I would have thought they’d design them better.”
“Mother started with plastic covers for mine but then Mother Earth News had an article about making soakers out of felted old sweaters. I just thought I’d knit them and felt them instead of trying to find enough old sweaters. I read it in one of those first few journals.”
“But I know Aggie doesn’t have leaking problems with hers. Maybe diapers when we were little were unreliable but these new ones seem to be better.”
Understanding dawned as Chad spoke. She grabbed the bag full of yarn and led him to the door. “I’m talking about washable diapers- not disposable. We can’t burn disposable ones Chad.”
“Cloth diapers?” Why the idea surprised him, he didn’t know. If she washed her monthly pads, of course she’d use washable diapers. “I don’t like the idea of diaper pins. It’s horrifying. Truly horrifying.”
“I’ll think of something. Maybe snaps or Velcro or even buttons…”
As they drove through the streets of Rockland, Willow saw the street to the Women’s Center. “Dr. Walston’s office is down there. When we have the next ultrasound, you should come and meet him.”
Suddenly, the impact of all that Willow had done assaulted Chad. “I still can’t believe you went by yourself.”
“It didn’t make sense to get your hopes up again-”
“I’d think that was my choice.” Chad sounded somewhat irritated.
“For over a year, I’ve been pressured by nearly everyone I’ve met to either be pregnant or to avoid it like the plague. Everyone seems to expect me to want a baby more than life itself or to insist that it’s too soon. Maybe if I’d been married for five or ten years and still hadn’t gotten pregnant- maybe then it’d make sense but this is obviously another instance of ‘Willow is too backward to be normal about this stuff.’” She glanced at him briefly. “Frankly, I’m sick of it.”
“You’re not the only one involved here. What was I supposed to think when you didn’t come home that time- when Ray said he’d taken you to town…” Chad ground his teeth together in frustration. “When you said you had a surprise for me!”
“Has it really gotten to the place where the only surprise you wanted from me was a positive pregnancy stick? You’re kidding me, right?”
Shaking his head, Chad turned onto the main street in Westbury and wove sharply around a creeping car. “That’s not what I said.”
“It’s sure what it sounds like. I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to hand you a urine soaked, plastic covered, proof that you’ve passed on your genetic material. I’m sorry that I didn’t follow yet another conventional ‘norm’ and disappointed you. Again.”
“You’re being unreasonable Willow! It was a logical assumption on my part-”
Willow cut him off mid sentence. “And I think it was logical to find out what’s wrong before I dash all your paternal dreams. What if I’d been declared infertile? Would this argument be about what a failure I am in that area instead?”
“Oh don’t be ridiculous. If I’d had the choice, which was removed from me thank-you-very-much, I would have liked to be there with you. What if they had said you were infertile? What if that hit you harder than anticipated.” She made a gesture of protest but Chad kept going. “I know, if you were so human as to have a weak moment of discouragement most women I’ve ever met-”
“And here we go again. One more dig about how I’m just abnormal. Why did you marry me Chad? You knew how different I am. Why did you suddenly decide that you wanted me to become what you could have had in every other woman you’ve ever met? Why?”
For a brief moment, guilt struggled to bore a hole in Chad’s heart. He heard tears in her voice and saw the firm set of her jaw so familiar to him. Anytime she struggled to avoid crying, her normally oval face looked nearly square as her jaw became prominent with her tension and now it looked like the image of Steve Solari. The impatient swipe at the tears in the corners of her eyes told him she’d be pulling out her claws next. Willow despised angry tears.
“I married you because I love you. Just you. Nobody else but you. Boop boop de doop.”
“What?” Willow glanced at him alarmed. “What are you talking about.”
Chad turned onto his parents’ street and pulled up in front of their house. “It’s an old song. Stupid one too.” He wiped a remaining tear from her eyelashes. “But it’s true. I’d be miserable with an ordinary woman. Don’t get me wrong, it might be easier,” he teased, “but it’d be boring. I like who you are and I don’t want you to be any different but it’s hard to predict when you’re going to be like others and when you’re off in your own world. Sometimes, I’m thrown off guard.”
They sat in his truck, looking at each other, saying nothing but every word necessary travelling between them unspoken. Marianne watched from the living room wondering what was wrong as she noticed the sag to Chad’s shoulders and the lack of smile on Willow’s face. Even the neighbor walking his dog sensed the tension emanating from the truck.
Finally, Willow nodded. “So, we’ve both been kind of ridiculous; is that what you mean?”
“Define it?” Chad wasn’t about to open the doors for further angst.
“Well, I felt pressured to put my order in for a stork delivery and you felt left out when I made arrangements to get the stork out of prison without you.”
Laughing, Chad jogged around the truck and opened the door. “Something like that. Can we start this over? I don’t want to let something like this fester until we have to lance it out. That kind of scar is usually permanent and we don’t need any more scars in our lives- especially with the baby…”
“Done.”
Chad opened the door calling, “Knock, knock” as he always did and as always, Willow cringed. It seemed so rude to just enter a house without waiting to be invited.
“You’re here! I-” Marianne paused in absolute shock. “Does this mean what I think!”
The sight of Marianne jumping up and down brought smiles to Chad and Willow’s faces. “Does this mean you’re in the ‘I approve’ camp on the baby question?”
“People don’t approve!” Marianne looked scandalized.
“Some don’t.”
“I have to tell your father-” Chad’s mother began.
“I told him this morning. I was supposed to go get magazines and such-”
“But I knew you’d forget them,” a voice came through the door.
“Christopher! You knew about this and didn’t tell me? I can’t believe you went to work and let me think this was just an average get together.”
Christopher set a stack of magazines on the kitchen bar and poured a glass of iced tea. “I tried to get here in time to see your reaction but I left without those stupid magazines…”
For the next half hour, the women worked together in the kitchen making sandwiches, pasta salad, and lemon bars for dessert. The men discussed cradles, life insurance, and the quality of Fairbury’s little league while Willow and Marianne created imaginary wardrobes, blankets, quilts, and toys for the anticipated child. Marianne was just as certain that it was a girl as Christopher was about a boy. Chad and Willow listened to their animated repartee with amused smiles until Willow mentioned the ultrasound.
“Already? I thought they didn’t do those until sixteen or twenty weeks. Teresa Mallory’s girl was twenty weeks I’m sure.”
“Willow had some testing done so they wanted to see how everything went.”
Silence hung awkwardly over the table. Marianne and Christopher held a rapid conversation with their eyes and facial expressions until Chad finally dropped his fork and threw up his hands. “What! Just spill it. Do you have any idea how much we hated when you guys did that?”
“Well, when you spring this testing on us… Is the baby ok?”
“Mom, the baby’s fine. Willow knew how eager we were for her to get pregnant and when the pressure got high, she just decided to find out if there was anything wrong with her that might prevent a baby.”
“Prevent a baby? Something was wrong? What did the doctor say?”
Chad looked at Willow to explain. All he knew was they’d discovered incomplete ovulation and given her something to help. The discussion had been interrupted so many times that he still hadn’t heard how they’d fixed it. Willow told the story of the ovulation kits, the ultrasounds, and how one dose of clomid had solved the problem.
“Clomid? Are you serious! How could you let her Chad! That stuff is so dangerous! She could be carrying a litter-”
Willow’s jaw dropped unaware that it still held partially masticated sandwich. Finally she swallowed and took a long drink of her lemonade. “A litter? Chad, what is she talking about?”
“Sometimes clomid has the side effect of releasing several eggs instead of just one or two. It’s rare but it happens. That family in Iowa was one…”
“So does that mean triplets or even quadruplets?” Willow looked stunned.
“The McCaugheys had septuplets.” Christopher didn’t like the look on Willow’s face. She was clearly stunned but anger was rising in her eyes.
“Seven babies. At once. Are you kidding me?”
“I can’t believe Chad agreed to it,” Marianne began.
Willow cut her off abruptly. “He didn’t. I made the decision on my own.”
“Didn’t the doctor mention the risk of multiples?” Chad hadn’t expected Willow’s surprise. As careful as she was to ask questions about everything, and with medical disclosure laws, surely the doctor mentioned the possibility.
“He mentioned multiples but it sounded like twins. I never realized-”
“You did ask him Chad?” Marianne had obviously missed the part where Willow didn’t inform her husband of her decision.
“I didn’t know mom. Willow went alone.”
“She what!” Shocked, Chad’s mother turned to Willow indignation clouding her features, eyes, and unfortunately, her judgment. “What were you thinking!”
“I was thinking,” Willow said as she stood and tossed her napkin on the chair, “I was thinking that I was sick and tired of the pressure. Everyone, and yes that includes you and Chad- Dad was probably the only exclusion, was constantly hinting, asking, pushing…” She swallowed hard and raised her eyes to the shocked faces at the table. “I was sick of feeling like I’d failed this family, my friends, and my husband. He brought home page after page of what could be wrong, what we should try to make it ‘work’… I felt like a breeder filly. It was horrible and I just wanted it over.”
Before they could respond, Willow turned and rushed from the room, the front door slamming shut behind her. Christopher stood calmly and shook his head as Marianne began to protest. “She’s right, Mari and you know it.” He stepped around the table and leaned down murmuring into his son’s ear. “It’s time to put your mother back in her rightful place as mother, not confidant and buddy. You brought another woman into your marriage son, and you brought the last woman most women are confident competing with. No woman wants to feel like his mother has a place in their bedroom.”
Chad and his mother stared after Christopher as he left to find Willow.
“Um mom-”
“Your father’s right. I never thought I was interfering that much. I didn’t say anything about all the physical labor, the adding more and more work… I didn’t say anything about a lot of things because I knew it wasn’t any of my business but the baby…”
“I brought it up mom. I sensed that she didn’t want to talk about it all the time- I assumed it was because she was as disappointed as I was. She wasn’t mom. She has this faith.”
Chad dropped his head into his hands. Marianne didn’t know what to do to comfort her son. Torn by her own contribution to the miserable ending of what should have been the best lunch of the year, she patted his hand and dabbed at her eyes smearing mayonnaise across her cheek as she did. What she didn’t expect, was Chad’s admission of fury.
“I’m just so angry mom. She left me out of this. She went through that examination alone, she made medical decisions that could have caused complications and I wouldn’t have known to tell the doctors. She does this and-” he groaned. “She goes off half-cocked and makes these decisions without any kind of thought to others who are involved or will be. It’s so infuriating.”
At first, Marianne was tempted to agree. She wanted to commiserate, justify, and advise but Christopher’s admonition pricked her heart. “I’m not the one to talk about this with, Chad. I’ve already caused enough problems. I had no idea but-”
“You’re right. Dad’s right. We all put a lot of pressure on her. Because we weren’t saying, ‘why aren’t you pregnant yet,’ we didn’t think we were, but I can see now why she felt that way.” Marianne stood, hugged her son, and turned to leave the room. “I’m very sorry son. I’m new at this mother-in-law thing and I have failed miserably. Please forgive me.”
***
“Willow! Wait up.”
She whirled to see Christopher jogging down the sidewalk after her. “What-”
“I want to talk to you.”
“Please, Dad, I don’t think I can take any more scolding right now.”
Smiling, he took her hand and led her around the block, down the street, to a small park with a shaded bench. “I didn’t intend to scold. I wanted to see if you were ok.”
“I’m a bit ashamed of myself. I can’t believe I spoke to Mom like that.”
“My Marianne is not usually a meddling woman. This has been a very unusual thing for me to see.” Willow started to respond, but Christopher stopped her. “No, wait. Listen to me. We’re all learning how this works. I’ve only been a father to children I’ve raised. I drove Chad away from me for years and thanks to you, I have him back again. I don’t know how to be a father-in-law. I don’t know how to give the kind of counsel that I know my son still needs without seeming to interfere in his own family. And, as is my normal behavior, I withdraw and wait for it all to smooth over. Marianne was the fixer. While I stood back and waited for my children to get over their hurts and difficulties praying like crazy for them, Mari was in there talking to them, listening to them, and keeping those lines of communication.”
Nodding, Willow agreed. “I can understand that.”
“Somehow, I have a feeling that this wasn’t all about Marianne’s surprise at you going to the doctor alone.”
“It wasn’t. Chad and I had an ugly argument on the way over here.”
“About the same subject?” Christopher could, with incredible accuracy, predict what each had said and why. Unlike his wife, he wasn’t emotionally swayed by the situation. He saw the strengths of each side of each argument and the weaknesses as well. With incredible logic, he picked apart Chad’s defense, Willow’s offense, and left her dumfounded when he finished.
“It was wrong to go alone?”
“You and Chad are not individuals anymore. Not in areas like this. You are an individual in your personal likes and dislikes. You don’t have to prefer blue just because Chad does. He doesn’t have to like roses over snapdragons just because you do-”
“Actually, that’d be the other way around…”
Christopher laughed. “You like denim and he likes lace or visa versa. Those are personal preferences and as an individual, you don’t have to be a clone of each other- that’s not what I’m saying. However, in marriage, there are areas that you must be one- of one mind. You must think and act as one when it comes to your family and I’d say that increasing that family counts.”
“I thought I was. He wants children and I wanted to do that for him. I wanted to stop the constant pressure, yes. That’s why I went alone. I didn’t know what would happen and it’d only upset him until he knew answers.”
“And it’d save you grief while you were waiting for those answers,” Christopher finished, an understanding tone to his words.
“Basically.”
“You denied him the right to help carry this burden, Willow. You took from him the chance to see his child at the earliest stage of development. You took from him, the opportunity to pray for you, to hold your hand during the examination, to protect you from what could have been a very unscrupulous doctor. You stole those from him.”
“I did?” The confusion on Willow’s face combined with the pain in her eyes nearly broke Christopher’s heart. He loved his daughter in law and hated that he had to hurt her by speaking the truth.
“You did. I know you didn’t mean to. You’ve lived a very independent and self-sufficient life. You’re not accustomed to asking for help unless you need it. Somehow, I think your mother left you alone in your decisions unless they must directly involve her.”
“She did.”
“I think,” her father-in-law continued, standing and taking her hand again as he led her toward home. “I think I understand. I’ll talk to Chad.”
“He’ll forgive me,” she said simply. “He always does. When will he tire of always having to do that?”
“My son was wrong too, Willow. Chad put you in a terrible position. You didn’t act out of selfishness or indifference. You acted out of love and self-preservation. While your actions were wrong, I think you might have made other choices had you not felt backed into a corner.”
As he spoke, Willow shook her head. “I don’t know. I might have but then again, I might not. I’m used to thinking and doing for myself. I don’t know if I would have thought that fixing my body was Chad’s territory too. I remember finding it weird and a little annoying when he brought home page after page of things that might help or might be wrong.”
“I think,” Christopher tried again seeing that his meaning wasn’t clear, “had the lines of communication not been ‘pressure sealed’, the subject might have come up naturally and then you would have seen where Chad was going with things and why you might want him with you. No one is faultless here Willow.” Christopher paused in front of his home. “But neither is anyone fully to blame. You both made mistakes. Marianne made mistakes.” He swallowed. “And I made the same mistakes I always do. I hid my head in the sand and waited for the storm to pass. Please forgive me.”
The next six weeks dragged by for both Chad and Willow. Chad waited daily for Willow’s announcement and Willow followed orders for medication, testing, and of course, the obvious. He hinted about his surprise but nothing he said or did tempted her to reveal her secret. She acted completely normal almost every minute of every day which drove him insane. While he watched for any sign of morning sickness, swelling feet, or odd cravings, Willow worked her farm, followed doctor’s orders, and waited for the magic date.
The day before her birthday, she had orders to take a pregnancy test and if it wasn’t positive, start testing her ovulation again. Chad, finally realizing that her birthday had arrived once again, decided she must be waiting for his birthday to tell him and that delay was driving him crazy. His mother called few days until Christopher heard of it and put a stop to it. She called one afternoon, apologetic and repentant saying, “When it comes to babies and Willow, I don’t think I’m very rational. Just keep me out of it until it’s a definite thing ok?”
July twenty-second arrived raining, pouring rather, and dreary. Willow had no doubt that the stick dipped into a cup of urine would be a waste of time, money, and hopes but she followed orders to the letter. After a second look at the stick, she flipped open her phone and called the doctor’s answering service insisting he call her back immediately. The call came five minutes later.
“So I’m looking at the stick and it looks wrong. There’s the bright blue line and then this faint pink one.”
“It worked. I guess I’m glad I canceled the ultrasound of your last ovulation.”
“What worked?”
“Willow, you’re pregnant.” Amusement filled Dr. Walston’s voice. “Wasn’t that the idea?”
“Seriously? One little pill for seven days and I’m pregnant?”
“Well,” the doctor hedged, “I think you should come in for a blood test but yes, you’re probably pregnant.”
“When can I come in?” The eagerness in her voice delighted him. This was why he chose his specialty. Nothing was more exciting than to see someone finally get pregnant after months and sometimes years of waiting.
“We’ll fit you in whenever you get in town. Come today. I’ll have Holly draw you.”
“Draw me why? What does that do?”
“Blood, Willow. Holly will draw blood, give it to the lab, and we’ll find out if clomid was a ‘cure’.”
***
July 23,
I’m twenty-four today. It’s an amazing day for me. I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours (two twenty-fours, how interesting) trying to think of the best way to tell Chad that we’re going to have a baby. At first, I thought I’d do something with the test I took but seriously, a stick full of urine? That’s just revolting. So then I thought about knitting booties at the speed of lightning but I don’t really have any yarn soft enough for a baby.
I thought about telling Mom. After all, it might be kind of funny for her to tell him but then I realized that I’d have to tell her first and that just seems a bit out of order. I know, I’m good at stating the obvious.
So, instead, I’m debating between mailing a card, sending him a baby bouquet, or… oh, I have an idea. I’m going to just wait to see how long it takes him to read this. He’d better not take forever or I’ll go crazy.
Meanwhile, Chad and Bill have spent the past two weeks discussing the expansion of the farm, the new barn, the necessary inspections and such. I don’t understand half of what they’re talking about sometimes but it feels really good when they have a question and I always have the answer. I man not understand what they’re doing with my information but at least I have the information we need. I feel less ignorant when I remember that.
July 24-
Oh, and in case Chad missed that part up there about the baby, I’m due in April. The doctor says around tax day. He called the baby “our little tax deduction.”
July 25- Perhaps I should put this on the kitchen table. Open. With the entry underlined.
July 26- And circled.
July 27- Highlighted? Seriously, I know it doesn’t usually take him this long to read my journals. He does it every other day or so. Chad… knock knock. Are you in there? Read July 23. Read it twice if you need to. Oh, and if I was snappish earlier (ok, I was) it’s not pregnancy hormones. It’s just thwarted surprise irritation.
Chad awoke shortly after midnight and found Willow gone. A glance at the clock told him it’d go off in an hour for his next shift. He tried to turn over and go back to sleep but failed miserably. Finally, he crawled out of bed and jogged downstairs.
Her journal lay open on her chest as she slept on the front porch swing. He smiled at the widened seat. That had been a stroke of genius if he did think so himself. Habitually, he pulled the journal from her arms and glanced at the last page open. Circled? What?
He read the next one. It made less sense so he flipped the page back one and read July twenty-fourth. Due? Baby? Another page back and he read about her plans for telling him and laughed aloud. She stirred, smiled in her sleep, and rolled over her pen falling to the floor.
Chad hardly noticed. Grinning at the words on the page, Chad waffled between shouting for joy and shaking her for not telling him immediately. Finally, he pulled the summer quilt over her shoulders, whistled softly for Portia, and pointed at the swing when the dog climbed the steps.
“Watch girl. Take care of her for me,” he whispered.
With a second, and then a third glance back at her, Chad slipped back into the house and climbed the stairs. He didn’t sleep. Rather than catching the last hour of slumber before he had to get up and go to work, Chad lay in bed staring at the half-illuminated ceiling and imagined pigtails and scuffed knees, buzz cuts in summer and pink snowsuits in winter. The fact that the faceless child changed genders faster than names on a credit screen didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest.
***
Christopher answered the phone quickly. The last thing he wanted to do was let it wake Marianne prematurely. She’d just gotten over a nasty summer cold and hadn’t seemed like she was out of sorts and not returning to her usually chipper self.
“Yes?”
“Dad? It’s me.”
“Chad? Isn’t it kind of early son?”
Laughing, Chad turned right onto the highway and headed toward home. “I’ve been watching the clock since just after midnight. I consider myself having nearly infinite patience.”
“What’s up?”
“Willow is pregnant. I just found out last night.”
It was Christopher’s turn to laugh. “Let me guess; you found out sometime just after midnight last night?”
“Elementary my dear father.”
“Any idea when this baby is coming?” Christopher didn’t know whether to shout for joy or groan with the realization of coming estrogen induced shopping trips, magazine purchases, and the incessant, if his years of parenthood were any indication, discussion of possible names.
“April.”
“You’ve got a name covered if it’s a girl then.”
“I’m not naming my daughter April!” The disgust in Chad’s voice was almost comical.
“I happen to like the name but as long as you don’t call her Beech, Oak, Aspen, or Sycamore, I’ll be good.”
“Very funny. Grandpa. Tell mom to call Willow, will ya?”
“I have a better idea. Send that wife of yours to the door today wearing a large t-shirt and a pillow underneath but be handy.”
“For what?” Chad was turning into the driveway and his mind somewhat distracted.
“To catch her if she faints.”
“Will do. Don’t tell her. We’ll leave after I get off work.”
“Can you get someone to handle night chores?”
After a moment of thoughtful silence, Chad answered. “Mmmhmm. I think so, why?”
“Plan to stay. Your mother is going to be over the moon and isn’t going to want to see you turn around and go home after just a single hour. Stop by the store on the way and I’ll have a box of books, catalogs, and magazines to keep her happy for a while.”
“Fresh Foods carries books, catalogs, and magazines on babies?”
“Not all, no, but Fran will go get what I need for me if I buy her lunch.” Christopher checked his wallet as he spoke and added more cash from the cookie jar on the counter. This would be expensive, but worth it.
“Ok. Will do. I’m off to find my wife. I haven’t told her I read it yet.”
“Huh?” The question never crossed the airwaves.
While Christopher stared at the phone wondering what his son meant, Chad practically leapt from the cruiser and rushed into the summer kitchen where he expected to find, and did find, Willow straining the milk. “So, I hear our taxes get more complicated next year.”
Willow, though she’d heard him drive up the driveway, jumped at the sound of his voice spilling milk all over the counter. “You hear?”
“Ok, I read. I can’t believe you’ve known since the day before your birthday and didn’t tell me.”
Soaked in milk, Willow cleaned the counter without a word. She sat the strained jars of milk in the fridge and scalded the pail. Once the rinse water was cooling in the bucket by the back door, she stripped off her soaked clothes, dumped them on the washing machine, and peeked around the corner. With only the cruiser in sight, she dashed across the yard in her underwear and into the house. Chad followed laughing.
“That’s what you get for holding out on me,” he called up the stairs. She’d skipped up them two at a time, but Chad took his time. He was still tired from interrupted sleep, excited about baby news, and trying to pretend to be affronted by her lack of forthcoming news. “Are you sure about your dates?”
“Why?” Willow appeared in her favorite cropped shorts and the halter he loved now that he was free to enjoy it. Two summers ago, it’d had been an awkward moment or two when he’d arrived to find her half-dressed as she worked around the farm.
“Because you started going out of town two months ago. I assume you went to a doctor?”
“Yes, but I wasn’t pregnant two months ago. I’ve been pregnant for almost three weeks he said.”
“Soooooo,” Chad drawled as he tried to make sense of her sentences, “what were you doing at the doctor’s before that?”
“I went to see if anything was wrong with me.”
“By yourself! Why didn’t you tell me?” Though he sounded irritated, Chad was truly just surprised.
“Because, I didn’t need more pressure to produce offspring.” Willow didn’t snap and didn’t mean to sound offended but Chad heard the strain in her voice and sighed.
“Can I do anything right?”
“What?” Willow didn’t understand why he seemed angry. “I thought you’d be happy about it.”
“I’m thrilled but I feel like a heel. I didn’t realize you felt pressured to get pregnant.”
All angst diffused from the conversation as Willow laughed. “There isn’t another man alive who knows more about his wife’s body’s inner workings than you do mine.”
“That sentence is a bit tough to follow but you’re probably right.”
She grabbed his sleeve and pulled Chad down the stairs behind her. “You need to eat your breakfast sandwich. It’s ready for you.”
“I called dad.”
She spun on the step nearly falling as she did. “Already?”
“Well, mom has been anxious-” Her sigh was almost too quiet for him to hear. “What?”
“You know I love your mother, right?”
“Right.” He didn’t like how this started.
“It’s been difficult in regards to the baby thing. She was so excited when you thought I was pregnant before. Then she called every once in a while trying to ask but not asking… and then there was Aggie’s pregnancy thing.” The dismayed look on Chad’s face made her hasten to reassure him. “No, Chad. I’m not angry. It’s just so much pressure. What if I was more infertile than I was? It makes me wonder if she would see me as some kind of failure.”
“It’s partly my fault, Lass,” Chad confessed. “I called when I thought you were pregnant. She finally called and asked me not to share information because she knew she was being pushy.”
“When did you think I was pregnant?” To hide her facial expression, Willow turned to get his food for him in the kitchen.
“When Ben said he took you to Rockland… and then you said you had a surprise and stayed overnight… well…”
She sat his plate in front of him and poured him a glass of milk. “Why do I have a feeling there’s more to it?”
“I checked the bank account online to confirm my suspicion. That’s why I think your dates are off. If you went in June…”
“I went to find out why I wasn’t conceiving. I saw Dr. Walston-”
“The obstetrician.”
“The infertility specialist.”
Nothing she could have said would have surprised him more. “You went to a specialist?”
“You brought home all that stuff about what might be wrong so I thought it was important to you.” The bite of breakfast sandwich stuck in her throat as she said it.
“Lass, why didn’t you tell me. I could have gone with you.”
She attempted a chuckle but if sounded like a whimper. “Chad, you would have decked that doctor.”
“Why?”
“Let’s just say the things they have to do to find out what is going on…”
“Ahh…” he nodded understanding. “Pap smear and all of that?”
“You-” She bit off another large piece of sandwich and chewed furiously. “You knew they’d do that and you let me-”
“Let you!” Chad was laughing now. “You went without telling me! How on earth did you expect me to warn you of anything.”
“Well, you do have a point…”
After several bites in silence, he asked, “So it was an infertility specialist. What did he find wrong? Endometriosis? Acidic environment? Short-”
“According to Dr. Walston, my body didn’t cooperate in making soup.”
“Making soup?”
“The egg didn’t drop.”
Lacey plodded through the damp grasses of the pasture early the next morning. The muffled plop of her hoof was overshadowed only buy the occasional sound of the same hoof pulling free of mud with a sickening suction sound that belonged in dental offices rather than peaceful fields just after dawn. Hardly conscious of where the hose picked her footing, Chad rode along dreaming of more sheep, horses, cattle, and of course, afternoons fishing for trout on a lazy summer day.
He’d tried to avoid all thoughts of Willow and what she might be doing. Chad’s mother had called looking for her just after supper the night before and Chad had to admit she wasn’t home. Marianne wanted to race over to Willow’s hotel to find out whatever the secret might be, but Chad refused to give away where Willow was staying and begged his mom not to ruin Willow’s surprise. As a safety measure, he’d called Willow and suggested she turn off her phone.
Maybe she was pregnant. Could you find out this soon after a cycle? He knew, more than most men he imagined, every nuance of her bodily functions after watching so carefully for any evidence that his wife might finally carry his child. Would Willow run straight to a doctor for confirmation? The moment the thought crossed his mind, he rejected it as unlikely at best. Willow had a surprise and she’d share it when it was time. He could go looking for clues… “Lacey, I’m pathetic. Did you know that girl?”
The horse tossed her head as though disgusted with him but Portia, jogging happily at his side, gave a sympathetic whimper. “I guess you did,” he laughed as he gently tugged the reigns to turn the animal around once more.
By nine o’clock, the goat was milked, the sheep moved to another pasture, and the chickens pecked for worms and other delicacies on the ground in their newly expanded quarters. Chad wandered into the barn with the last load of eggs and realized that they’d need a larger barn at this rate. There wasn’t room for more cows in the winter, the sheep pens weren’t nearly large enough, and to move the chickens in as they’d discussed would mean a bigger mess than either one of them cared to contemplate. It was time to make some major plans, immediately. Well, after calling their egg customers to let them know their eggs were ready and could be retrieved either from the farm or the back of Chad’s truck while he was at work.
While Chad planned bigger and better barn like your typical male, Willow, in her own typical feminine fashion, slipped on a new skirt, blouse, and braided her hair before rushing downstairs for breakfast. By nine-thirty, she sat waiting in the waiting room anxious to see what the doctor would find today yet dreading the process. “Lord, if I was of a scientific bent, I’d design a less intrusive way to examine one’s innards.”
“Excuse me?”
Willow glanced up to see the nurse standing there ready to take her into the room. “I was just informing the Lord that someone needs to reinvent your machine to be less invasive. I’m dreading this.”
Once ushered into the office and given the thin drafty gown to don once again, the nurse disappeared into the hallway and peals of laughter followed. “Glad I’m amusing,” she muttered to herself as she piled her clothing on the chair and lowered herself to the paper covered ‘table’. “Oh this stickiness is only slightly less disgusting than that goo they glop on that thing…”
“Morning Willow. How did you feel last night?”
“Should I have felt anything?” Confusion flooded her features.
“Some women feel pinching on the side that is ovulating… for you it’d be your right side.”
“Well, I felt a dull ache for a while last night but it felt better after I ate so I just assumed…”
Dr. Walston and his nurse exchanged glances that seemed to mean something but Willow didn’t know what. The screen in odd color and three dimensional fascinated Willow this time. Watching the changing pictures of the inside of her body helped override some of her discomfort. “So, do you see what you’re looking for?”
“I see what I expected. I’d like to do another one in a couple of hours but I think I’ve seen enough to know what I think I want to try first.”
She stared at Dr. Walston waiting for him to elaborate. “And that is?”
“Well, it doesn’t look like your egg is releasing. The ovary is trying but it swells and then reduces.”
“Can you do anything to make it release?”
“We have a drug we’d like you to try next month starting five days after your cycle. Then you’ll use the same ovulation kits and when you see that you’re ovulating, come in. I want to see if it looks like an egg released.”
Willow stared at the screen and then raised her eyes to the doctor’s face. “It sure seems like a lot of hassle. I mean, my mother in less than ideal circumstances was pregnant with the only chance she ever had to get pregnant and look at me.” She sat up and wrapped the paper ‘gown’ around her tighter. “Is it right to play round with this stuff?”
Dr. Walston took her hand and waited for her to finish. “Willow, you don’t have to do anything with this information. It might not do this every month and yet it might. We don’t know. I understand why some people have problems with in-vitro or other procedures but if your thyroid doesn’t work, we give it the right treatment to fix it. I personally don’t see any difference between making one part of your body work and making the other.”
“Do I want to know what in-veto is?”
He barely stifled a laugh. “Vitro. In vitro fertilization. I don’t think you want to know.”
“Good. I’ll just trust you on that. So I take these pills and it makes the egg drop?”
“You make it sound like soup, but yes. That’s exactly what you do.”
A look crossed her face that made the doctor pause before he left the room. Finally, Willow picked at her cuticles and whispered, “Is it wrong not to say anything to my husband until we know?”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“He’ll get his hopes up and what if it doesn’t work?” Willow looked miserable.
“Well, I don’t usually recommend keeping things from your spouse but waiting a month before you say anything so you have something concrete is understandable. If you feel guilt, I’d tell him. If you are just concerned about doing what is right, perhaps you can talk to your pastor or priest.”
***
“So where’s my surprise?” Chad wrapped his arms around his wife as she climbed off the bicycle.
“They said it’d be at least a month but hopefully it’s all ‘ordered’ and ready to go.”
“A month! I’ll have the new barn built by then!”
Whirling in place, Willow stared at him slack jawed before she laughed. “You had me going there for a minute.”
“No, I’m serious. We’re going to need more room for animals next winter and I think we should consider a larger and warmer hen house.”
They walked to the house discussing Chad’s plans and Willow’s idea for getting broody hens. “I don’t know why Mother never found a source for them. I think it’d be a much better way to keep new generations of chickens arriving on a regular basis.”
“Wouldn’t it get bad to have such close interbreeding?”
“I read an article once- I kept it too. It was about how there are co-ops that swap hens on a regular basis and with different people each time in order to keep the bloodlines ‘fresh’. It was really interesting. There’s one for this area and one near Chicago. Between the two, we should be able to keep a fresh genetic pool at all times.”
“So,” Chad began again teasing, “what can you tell me about this surprise?”
“Absolutely nothing. And, if you keep bugging me about it, I’ll call and cancel. If you knew what I had to go through to make this happen you’d feel guilty right about now.”
The scent of venison stew hit her the moment she opened the kitchen door. Chad didn’t cook much, especially on the woodstove but he’d managed to perfect stew in the two years he’d known Willow and he’d also learned that she loved nothing more than coming home to the scent of a simmering pot of it. Bread, warmed on the warming shelf and the coffee table was “set” with windows opened to send the heat out of the kitchen and draw the cooler evening air through the house. She still felt awkward eating on the couch but when the kitchen was too warm for Chad’s taste, he always moved them into the living room and Willow didn’t have the heart to complain.
“That smells heavenly.”
“It does, doesn’t it. I remembered the turnips this time.” Chad winked at Willow’s mock surprise. “Hey, I’m not that pathetic.”
“So, tell me about this barn idea…”
***
“Mom, I think she’s pregnant.”
“You said that two weeks after you got married.”
Laughing, Chad described her two trips to Rockland. “The last time, she stayed overnight. She didn’t tell me she went the first time but I was talking to Ben who runs the shuttle between Rockland and Fairbury Thursday through Saturday and he mentioned it.”
“So what about that makes her pregnant?” Marianne didn’t quite understand her son’s logic.
“I think she’s going to a doctor to see this time.”
“Well it doesn’t take two trips and an overnight to get a positive test, Chad.”
“No, but with such a long wait, she might decide to have him check with an ultrasound or something after the test. Maybe that’s why she stayed overnight. She went for the test, then went back a few weeks later to make sure baby was still fine but they had to schedule the ultrasound and fit her in the next day.”
“Maybe but I think most offices have them in the rooms now. I don’t think she’d have to come back.”
“She’s so frugal though,” Chad protested doggedly. “I think she probably found the cheapest guy in town and he probably works with the hospital lab or something.”
His reasoning did make sense. “Did you check the credit card statements or the account online?”
“I wasn’t sure if that was reasonable. I mean, where do you draw the line…” It was plain from Chad’s hesitation that he wanted to do it badly.
“I would.”
“Even if she said it was a surprise?”
Marianne’s protest could be heard throughout the police station. “This is my grandchild we’re talking about. I want to know if she exists!”
“She?”
“I’m a grandmother. I have an intuition into this kind of thing and we’re having a girl first. Go check and call me back.”
Chad told her to hold a minute. “Ok, I’ve logged in. Let’s see…”
For the next few minutes, Chad scrolled through the very few credit card transactions, the bank cash transactions, and finally found a check to a Dr. Walston for several hundred dollars. “Bingo. Dr. Walston. I googled and he’s in a “Woman’s Center” over on Telegraph.”
“That’s a very well respected center.” Marianne’s voice was excited. “I just looked up gynecologists and obstetricians and he’s listed!”
Chad grinned. This was it. His wife was finally pregnant. Who knew just two short years ago that he’d be chomping at the bit to be a father? Who knew that he’d be sitting at work doing detective work on his wife rather than the creep who was writing bad checks all over town? Who knew he’d be surfing the web for cradle kits?
“So are you going to be a papa or what?”
Joe’s voice startled Chad and he closed out the window of various cradle options. “Officially, I have not been informed of any such thing.”
Joe laughed. “Congratulations man.”
“Seriously, Joe. You know this town. Don’t let anyone think you think that much less hear you say it. You’ll have to sit on suspicion until my wife actually deigns to tell me.”
“And I thought you had it bad when you were falling for her. This is worse.”
“Just pray she isn’t sick. This’d be a bad time for her to be bedridden.”
“Oh my word.” Judith broke in disgustedly. You have become Mr. Farmer.”
March-
We’ve had a thaw but it won’t last. It is unseasonably warm and that means mud, things trying to grow that’ll just die because they think they’re ready to weather life above ground but as always, they’ll get a rude awakening. Chad just read that and laughed at me but he’ll see that I’m right. Every time nature tries to blossom too early, storms, snow, frost, or something will come along and kill the tender plants. If only they would wait for their time. If, rather than rushing to pop out of the ground and be noticed for their early arrival, the plants waited for the dangerous times to pass, they would grow stronger, brighter, and smell sweeter than ever.
Chad says that is a good analogy for some of the little girls at church. They try so hard to be ‘grown up’ and look the part but in the end, there is nothing to look forward to. It is truly heartbreaking how jaded little eleven year old girls are about relationships and life in general. I guess Chad is right. It is a good analogy. As breathtaking as a single red tulip is surrounded by snow, it is much more vulnerable to plucking than it would be had it waited for its sisters to bloom with it.
Valentine’s Day was full of fun and surprises. Chad had flowers delivered to the house. I guess I never realized that Wayne at the Pettler would deliver flowers for me. What a fascinating business. Apparently the other officers teased Chad about being cheap and unromantic because he didn’t send red roses. Apparently that is customary for every “romantic” occasion. Chad knows me well. The gerbera daisies he sent were bright, colorful, and I’m planning on growing a bunch myself now.
Speaking of growing flowers, I sold a huge bunch of lavender to a woman from Brant’s Corners. Aggie called and said the woman wanted it for crafting and offered me much more than I would have imagined it is worth. That reminded me that we’d planned on the lavender rows along the driveway so I’ve started plants in the greenhouse for that. Chad says as soon as I give the word, he’ll plant them for me. Why is it that Chad works for the police department, isn’t home half of his waking hours, and yet he manages to cut my workload significantly. I do much less work now than I did when Mother was alive and it’s not because Chad works non-stop or anything.
Portia is a big girl now. She works hard to keep everyone, including Chad and I, rounded up into nicely huddled masses and of course, fails miserably when it comes to the human population. The barn cats have tried to subdue her but alas, she tries to keep them in line anyway.
I am avoiding what is on my heart. I need to get it out and deal with it but I fear hurting those closest to me. It’s odd, in less than two years my thought processes have changed. I would never have thought twice about reigning in my thoughts or words when it was just Mother and I but as Chad likes to say in a tone that sounds broken hearted, I’ve been “civilized.” So here goes. I am not pregnant. I’ve been married for nearly a year and there is no sign of a baby on the horizon. The problem is, to me, this isn’t a problem. However, everyone around us seems to see it as something horrible. Well, those who want to see us with child. There are a definite group of people who think it’s best that we wait a few years before starting a family. I don’t quite understand why either side is so concerned. Either we have a baby or we don’t.
I was quite content to wait until it just happened but even Chad is making noises like something is terribly wrong. He brought home several printed pages of articles on “infertility” and “trying to conceive” and has been reading them diligently. From what I’ve read, I think everything in my body is working fine. I checked the temperatures, checked the body gunk, and basically, there’s no reason that I can see as far as the body goes, for me not to be pregnant so I think perhaps it’s just not time yet. God knows what He’s doing and while Chad agrees, he’s not so sure we know what we’re doing. In the famous words of the local teenagers. What. Ever.
Willow shifted nervously in her seat as she filled line after line after line of what she considered increasingly evasive information. Much of it she couldn’t answer. She didn’t know if there was a family history of cardiac trouble, diabetes, cancer, or depression but she did know that her mother died of an aneurysm, she’d had a tetanus shot within the past 10 years, and was not allergic to general anesthesia.
This, however, was nothing compared to the abject misery induced by six innocent words spoken by the nurse when she called Willow’s name. “Willow Tesdall? Right this way please.”
From that moment on, Willow’s first visit to the gynecologist nearly became her last. From the backless paper gown, to the instruments of torture attached to the paper-covered table, to the ice cold stethoscope that the doctor pressed against her chest through the paper, the invasion grew to epic proportions. Her eyes widened, her words grew more and more clipped and stilted until finally the doctor sat on the rolling stool next to her shoulder and patted her arm.
“Are you always this tense Mrs. Tesdall?”
“Willow. Please just call me Willow and what do you mean?”
“Well,” the doctor smiled reassuringly at Willow as he tried to make her more relaxed and comfortable. “You jump at any attempt to touch you, you’re very tense, and I don’t know how I’ll manage to get a decent pap smear if this keeps up so-”
“What’s a pap smear and why do I need it?”
Dr. Walston pushed his chair back and stared at the nurse. Finally, he glanced at Willow again and asked, “Is this your first gynecological visit?”
“I think so. I’ve only been to the doctor for stitches once, when I sliced open my leg and got surgery, and I think that’s it. I was at the dentist once though.”
With a look at his nurse that spoke volumes, the doctor excused himself for a few minutes while Anne explained the processes of an exam, what each test was for, and what the doctor would be doing. The fact that Willow did not grab her clothing and run is a great testimony to her love for Chad and her desire to understand if there was truly anything wrong with her. Although she was content to wait many years to see if God blessed them with children, Chad, somewhat pressured by family, was nervous about ‘wasting time’ in not correcting anything that might need correction.
Despite nurse Anne’s very helpful preparation, Willow found the entire exam to be humiliating, invasive, and painful. She cried through the pap, the internal, and the chest exam. Dr. Walston tried to be as gentle as possible but finally opted for speed over comfort assuming correctly that more than anything, Willow wanted the experience over.
In his office, Dr. Walston asked several questions that he assumed Willow wouldn’t have answers to but to his surprise, she was prepared. From within her ever-present tote bag, she pulled a month’s worth of fertility information to make any regular charter proud. He read everything carefully and then smiled.
“You’ve done your homework.”
“My husband is concerned.”
“Well from the looks of this, he doesn’t need to be- everything seems well enough for now. I am going to send home a few ovulation predictor kits and want you to use them according to directions. If you have any questions at all, call the nurse’s desk. Those ladies are pros at making everything clear. Once you have a predictor, I want you to come in and we’ll do an ultrasound on your ovaries and see what’s happening.”
“And that should fix it if there’s anything wrong?”
“No, that should tell us if anything’s wrong.”
Willow looked at him curiously. “What could be wrong that this super sound thing will show?”
“Well,” the doctor’s mustache twitched with amusement at Willow’s skepticism, “it’ll show if your ovaries are working properly, if they’re releasing the eggs, and if necessary, we’ll order a dye test to see if the egg can get through the fallopian tubes.”
“And if, say, the tube is too small or something? What happens to the egg?”
For the next half hour, Dr. Walston explained more about the reproductive cycle than Willow imagined most people wanted to know. She thanked him for his time, paid for the visit at the front desk, and left with a bag full of boxes that were to become her closest companions in the next month. The whole thing seemed like a waste of time and money to her until she thought again of how excited Chad would be when she told him everything works fine and they just needed to be patient.
She jumped on the bus to Fairbury, unlocked her bicycle from the rack behind the Fox, dumped her paraphernalia in the baskets and strapped on her helmet. Through the streets she rode, hoping to avoid Chad and the questions he’d be sure to ask, and barely remembered to stop at the feed and seed for the roll of fencing she’d planned to use as an excuse for her ride to town. Chad called her name just as she passed Center Street. She waved cheerfully calling, “I got the fencing! I’ll see you at four!”
- **
To her amazement, the next three weeks crawled by ridiculously slowly. They planted their garden, increased their sheep flock by twenty new lambs, and exponentially grew their chicken production. People had been begging for fresh eggs, free range chicken meat, and Willow was determined to provide top quality products for those ready to pay. It required inspections by health boards and the FDA even for their little farm but they passed with flying colors and the result was more work than ever but Willow loved it anyway.
Chad tilled fields, planted grain and alfalfa, while Willow created more and more berry, melon, and flower patches. The work was hard at times but both seemed to love it. When Brad Waverly needed an extra day’s work to fund one of his many hobbies, Chad gave it willingly and spent the day working on one of the many projects that Willow devised.
Two days after their anniversary, the ovulation kit told her what Dr. Walston had been waiting to hear. She was ovulating or about to. The “ferns” showed plainly on the mini microscope included in the kit and the nurse at Dr. Walston’s office arranged an appointment for ten the next morning. It was time to discover if everything worked in that department.
Having been to the office already was helpful but nothing could have prepared her for the horrible invasion of the ultrasound wand. While the doctor examined her organs and how well they were or weren’t operating, Willow closed her eyes and whispered repeatedly to herself, “this is for Chad, this is for Chad, this is for Chad. He’s worth it. I think.”
The results were inconclusive but the doctor showed the swollen ovary where the egg would burst forth at any time in the next twenty four hours. “Come back tomorrow morning and let’s see what we see. How about eight?”
Willow left the office in a daze. She was tired, sore, and mentally drained. She took a cab and directed him to the hub but as they passed the Rockland Towers, she begged him to pull into the portico. “I’ll get out here, thank you.”
In less than an hour, Willow was comfortably curled in a hotel bed, sleeping peacefully.
- **
Portia raced to greet Chad as he climbed from the truck. He absently patted the dog’s head as he hurried into the house. He’d seen Willow’s call but a fight at the high school was more important at the time it came through so he’d planned to call her back. He hadn’t planned for a dead battery. Again. It was time to buy a new cell battery- or maybe a cell phone.
The house was empty. The barn, nearby pastures, and greenhouse were all empty too. Unsure what else to do, Chad plugged in his phone and punched the quick dial one waiting impatiently for her to answer. She didn’t. She had, however, left a voice message that he listened to curiously.
“Chad. I’m in Rockland- no, I won’t tell you why, it’s a surprise. Anyway, it’s taking longer than I thought it would so I won’t be home until tomorrow. Call when you can. Oh, and will you check the black faced lamb? I think she hurt her leg yesterday. I love you.”
To his amusement, there was the same familiar hesitancy after signing off as if she either didn’t know how or didn’t want to disconnect the call. A surprise for him huh? Well, whatever it was, it would give him time on Lacey in the morning before work. That horse seemed to love the early morning rides across pastures and through trees almost as much as he did. He’d go eat in town, come home, go to bed early, and then get up for a morning rendezvous with Lacey. To hear him think, you’d imagine he’d been waiting for just this chance for far too long. However, his face left the impression that he’d lost his last friend.
“Let’s get it in the house first and then I’ll take you out to meet Lacey. I’m going to have to take her over to Brant’s Corners and get Uncle Zeke’s friend to outfit her.”
“I can’t believe she just bought you a horse.”
Chad beamed. “Oh man, wait’ll you see her. She’s gorgeous, very good temperament and everything but…”
“What’s wrong?”
“Willow is terrified of her.”
Luke’s jaw dropped along with the tailgate to his truck. “You’re kidding. Willow? She’s used to animals.”
“Not big ones that want to be friendly.”
The men tried not to chuckle as they stumbled through the yard with the hoosier. Every few feet they stopped, set it down, and then hoisted it once more. The steps were a bit difficult but once through the door, the hoosier fit perfectly in the place where only an hour before, the hutch had stood for so many years.
“That is just perfect. I can’t believe you got the flour hopper and everything. She’s going to love that!” As he spoke, Chad tied a huge red bow around the hopper and jerked his thumb at the drawer in the corner. “Will you get me some tape from that drawer?”
By the time Willow arrived back home after an afternoon of shopping with Cheri, Chad and Luke were walking Lacey around the yard on her lead. Cheri raced to hug the horse but Willow just leaned against the porch and watched delightedly as everyone admired the horse. “Come on Willow,” Cheri called as she led the horse closer to the house.
“Let me get her a carrot.” Willow practically ran into the house as Cheri led the horse closer and closed the ’safe’ gap that Willow had painstakingly created.
“She really does hate the horse,” Cheri laughed as Willow disappeared into the living room. “What on earth?”
“I don’t know but she will barely feed the poor thing.” Chad’s words were meant for Luke and Cheri but his voice spoke to Lacey.
Willow came outside with a handful of carrots and waggled one to catch Lacey’s attention. “There girl!” With a powerful throw, Willow sent the carrot flying toward the pasture. Chad barely let go of Lacey’s lead rope as the horse chased after the carrot.
“What- I’ve never heard of a horse playing go fetch!” Luke stared at the horse awestruck.
“Well, she doesn’t fetch really. She just chases it.”
Once Lacy knew where the carrots were, she hurried back to Willow but Willow was ready. She tossed another carrot and the horse made an arc in the snow and raced after the carrot. Chad watched as his horse, time after time, raced to the pasture to snag the carrot before trotting back for another one. When the last carrot was gone, she hurried to Willow wanting more.
“No Lacey, they’re all gone. I don’t have any more! Lacey!” Willow backed away from the horse until she tripped over the back steps. Luke and Cheri collapsed in fits of laughter, but Chad followed as she stumbled up the steps and escaped inside, Lacey standing with two hooves on the first step whinnying for her to bring out more.
He pushed his way past the horse, and burst into the kitchen. “She won’t hurt you lass.”
“My head knows that but my heart sends me running before my head screams loud enough to be heard.” She started to say more but the sight of a hoosier with a bright red bow stopped her. “What-”
“Merry Christmas.”
“Did you and Luke-”
He shook his head. “No, just Luke. I didn’t see how I could go work on it without you knowing.”
To Chad’s surprise, Willow jerked open the kitchen window shouting, “Thanks Luke!” before she turned around and threw her arms around him. “And thank you! I love it. Mother always talked about building one and putting it right there but she never got around to it.”
“I wish I’d had the tools and the time but by the time I thought of it…”
“It’s perfect.” She jerked her thumb at the back door. “Get out there with your family. I’ll make some hot chocolate and pull out the cookies.”
Chad stepped out of the door and then popped his head back in to suggest that she make a few sandwiches and saw her running her hands over the smooth surface of the wood. Abandoning the sandwich idea, Chad slipped out the door smiling to himself. “I think that was a good idea,” he muttered as he hurried to return his horse to her stall.
***
New Year’s Eve-
Another year, another Christmas without Mother. It amazes me how things all stay the same even when they’re so very different. Mom Tesdall gave Chad and me the oddest looks when she saw our gifts for each other. I finally asked her what bothered her and she commented that she didn’t know how we’d afford to keep giving each other such expensive gifts. At first, I was confused. I couldn’t think of what I had said or done that might give anyone the impression that I would always spend so much. This year, I spent what I’d earned with the garden surplus. It felt wonderful because I knew I was buying Chad’s gift with money I’d earned. But it turns out that it was another one of those things where I am weird again. Apparently if you give someone a gift that costs fifty dollars this year, then next year you’re expected to keep the cost similar. I don’t understand that at all. I mean, what if the best gift for that person isn’t something you can buy? What if it is just something you can make and doesn’t cost much? Do you put an envelope in with it covering the monetary difference? It seems absurd. Chad says that his mom doesn’t understand how I think but that I should just be me and not worry about it. People will always be happy with what I give them. I hope he’s right. I certainly don’t want to be rude. It’s amazing what is rude. I would have thought any expectations of a gift or its value would be rude.
I spoke to mom about the Aggie situation. I think I embarrassed her and it made me feel badly but at least she understands now that even if I had been disappointed that Aggie was pregnant when I am not (it still sounds so juvenile to write that!), it is worse to know that others hid their joy from me. Chad knows how I feel about how he listened to his mother and he agrees that it put a distance between us that we shouldn’t encourage. I was angry about it but Chad reminded me that he’s never been married before either and only had his mother’s (usually good) advice to follow so he did without thinking. Looking back it is easier for him to see why I was bothered.
Lacey is fitting in nicely with our other animals. I think she has decided that I am beneath her notice which is fine by me. Chad still teases me about my fear of her but that is one big animal! Her teeth are huge! So, we seem to have come to a truce. She won’t come near me and I give her lots of alfalfa, carrots, and apples and even oats but Chad says too many oats aren’t good for horses. I always thought they were but I guess not. He stirs black strap molasses and cod liver oil and I don’t know what else into the mix every few days. He rides her a few times a week and brushes her often. He keeps asking me to try brushing her but I’m not going near her. Chad says I’m shooting myself in the foot because soon she won’t listen to me. He thinks it’ll make it difficult for me to ever become “friends” with her. I don’t want to be friends with her so that suits me just fine. I think Lacey and I have an understanding though so we’re good.
Chad suggested that we build “roads” across the land from field to field and pasture etc. so that he can drive tools and things from place to place and so that me dragging the cart around will be easier than going through grasses and things. I’m not sure how necessary it is but if it makes it easier on Chad, I think it’s worth it. The work this year is going to leave less leisure time. I’m going to have to schedule things carefully and make sure I schedule afternoons off. I am concerned about pregnancy. I mean, with the work planned, what happens if I get pregnant and am as sick as Chad says some people get? Even if I don’t, I could need clothes at just the time I won’t have time to make them. I have to plan for that. I found plans for more strawberries in one of mother’s journals. She never did the berry hills that she’d planned but I think I will do it this year. If I could sell enough to pay for the time invested in the plants… I think I’ll start seedlings tomorrow in the greenhouse if Chad can find seeds at the feed and seed.
“Willow?” Chad’s voice broke through her reverie as she entered her thoughts into her journal.
“Hmm?”
“It’s almost midnight and you’re drooping.”
“But I wanted to stay up until midnight like you said.” The petulant tone told him she was exhausted.
“You will. I’ve got a surprise though. Come on.”
Chad led her downstairs, insisted she put on her jacket, and then led her to the porch. “Cover your eyes and count with me. Open them at one.”
A minute ticked by. Seconds. Finally, Chad’s voice started counting down from ten. “Five… four… three… two… one…”
Willow’s eyes flew open and stared at Chad expectantly. Then, a burst of fireworks rose from the center of the yard and exploded into the sky. Colors reflected on the snow and sparks showered downward and fizzled against the snow. There was a boyish delight in Chad’s eyes as he watched her reaction to the relatively small display of pyrotechnics.
“Happy New Year Lass!” he shouted from the yard.
Laughing, she scooped a huge handful of snow from the porch railing and formed a snowball. As she tossed it at him, she screamed at the top of her lungs, “Happy New Year World’s Greatest Husband Ever!”
The long driveway home was decorated with artificial pine swags tied with red bows and lit with twinkle lights. Candles in the windowsill and lanterns along the porch lit the house making it look warm and welcoming. The upstairs windows had candles in lanterns like beacons on a hill. In all, it was a festive picture worthy of Currier and Ives. The only thing it lacked was a horse drawn sleigh rushing down the ‘lane’.
Chad loved nights like this. Off at six, dinner waiting with a house smelling like Christmas personified, and a bath towel hung by the upstairs woodstove waiting for him to step out of the shower- it was the perfect recipe of domestic happiness. He remembered his first winter in Fairbury, the bare apartment, the boxed and canned foods, and the sheets he now realized probably were changed only once that whole season, were things of the past- a past he hoped never to see again.
He climbed from his truck wearily. It’d been a long hard day. Fairbury rarely had more than a speeding or drunk tourist but today a domestic dispute had gone south, a baby died of SIDS, and strung-out teenagers from Rockland tried to rob the Fox theatre. He wanted nothing more than to take a shower, relax, and let the stress from his day job melt away in the haven of his home. Tonight, he wouldn’t flip on a television and see the ugliness of the world in his own living room as well. This had bothered him at first but after months of news free living, Chad was happy to get a recap of world events at work without all of the sensationalized local bits and bizarre horrors that punctuated the nightly news.
Willow sent him upstairs the moment he entered the house. The towel was already hanging from the towel rack willow had installed as soon as cool weather set in. Fresh clothes waited for him on the closed hamper id and his favorite CD was in a player ready for him to escape for a few minutes. By the time Chad jogged down the stairs, the stress and grime of the day was washed down the drain and Chad was ready to enjoy the next two days off.
“So, what do we need to do for Christmas?”
“It’s still two weeks away.”
“Ten days,” Chad corrected, “but who’s counting?”
“Your mother’s quilt is almost done, I just have to finish the binding. Cheri’s sweater is finished, Christopher’s sweater is done, and your father’s afghan needs a lot more work but it’ll be done in time.”
“What about my present? Are you done with it?”
“It’s wrapped, store, and out of the way so you can’t peek.” She gave him a sly smile. “Is my skein winder done?”
“A skein whater?” He laughed at her mock indignation. The winder had been done for two months. What she didn’t know about was the hoosier Luke was making for her. There was a perfect place for it where the hutch was and the hutch would look wonderful on the wall next to the table. He couldn’t wait to bring it home.
“Hey, we can do whatever we want for the next couple of days so what sounds good?”
“We should go snowshoeing one afternoon. The snow is so thick this year. I had to shovel the roof this morning.”
“Was it that bad?” Chad had never seen anyone have to shovel a roof in his life. He’d always assumed that was something reserved for Alaska or was an urban legend.
“Mother was adamant. If the snow was over fifteen inches and lasted more than a week, it had to go.”
“You could have fallen off of there!”
“Chad,” she continued patiently, “I’ve done this my whole life. I think I know how to keep myself from crashing to the ground.”
“I guess you do. Now that the roof is clear, what do you want to do?”
“We could make Christmas cookies…”
“How about you bake, I eat?”
Willow’s expression was priceless. “I had a crazy impression that you wanted to do something new but that’ll work too.”
“We could go into town and watch a movie…”
Shaking her head, Willow carried the dirty dishes to the sink. “Not interested.”
“We could go bowling…”
“I could teach you to knit and you could make scarves for all of Luke’s children.”
“Did I tell you?” Chad hesitated. “Aggie’s pregnant.”
Willow’s eyes lit up excitedly. “Really? Oh I bet she’s so excited! When- how far-”
“March.”
“Oh baby clothes! I’ve got to start making baby clothes! I need flannel and s- Wait. March? That means she’s been pregnant for…”
“Several months. Mom didn’t want to tell you but I finally told her at Thanksgiving that I was telling you before Christmas.”
Confused, Willow shook her head. “I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t she tell me?”
“I think mom was afraid you’d take it hard.”
Willow dropped the last dish in the drain, banked the kitchen stove, grabbed a plate of cookies from the shelf above the stove, and carried it into the living room trying hard not to show her irritation. “All this time I could have been excited for her, praying for her, sewing and knitting for her but I’m supposed to take it hard so I don’t get to know. I feel gypped.”
“We’ll go to the city tomorrow and buy all the yarn and fabric and anything else you could possibly need. You were busy with harvest and everything else anyway.”
“I guess so. I’ll write Aggie a note tonight though. I bet she thinks I’m the worst cousin-in-law ever known to mankind.” She took a deep breath and met Chad’s eyes. “Don’t keep something like that from me again. It is a little insulting but primarily I feel like you deceived me- you hid something from me because you or someone else thought the worst of me. I know,” she continued quickly seeing the objection on his lips, “it was meant for a kindness but it still says that I’m petty enough after only six months of marriage, to be too full of my own disappointment in not being pregnant that I cannot rejoice with someone who is. That isn’t who I am and I thought you knew that of me.”
***
December-
Aggie is pregnant but no one told me. Apparently, I am supposed to ‘take it hard’ when a wonderful thing happens to someone else. I could understand if I’d been married for five years and no sight of children and it was bothering me… maybe then… but I don’t understand why now. We haven’t even been married a year. Of course I was surprised when Mother was pregnant after one horrible encounter and yet with much um, practice, I am still waiting. I don’t feel barren though- not yet.
How do I convey my disappointment to Chad? I feel a little betrayed by him listening to his mother on this. Mother’s lessons didn’t cover how to tell a husband- wow. I feel silly. No, mother didn’t tell me how to handle a husband but Chad’s a person too. I keep treating him as though husband is the only facet to his personality. He’s a person and when people disappoint us we confront it, forgive, and move on. I sort of confronted it. I need to forgive and move on. Two lessons in one. I feel quite educated this morning.
Chad is milking and feeding the animals. The chickens are racing around the yard like crazy. I don’t think they’ll be out there for long. I should have shot a turkey for Thanksgiving. It’s too late to shoot one now and I don’t have anything for Christmas dinner except for roast. How can I make roast different and festive? Maybe we should raise a few turkeys as well. I’m not doing a pig though. That was disgusting.
Chad’s main Christmas present gets here this afternoon. He keeps trying to “do something” but we can’t leave or we’ll miss delivery. I think I’ll send him to town for something- maybe dinner. I can ‘forget’ dinner. I am so excited. If there is any one thing that Chad wants for this farm, I think I’ve found it. I hope it’s the right choice.
Baby gifts. Tomorrow we’re going to Rockland and buying all kinds of wonderful things for me to make little sweaters and booties and diaper sets… I have all the patterns mother bought but didn’t use for me. I can do it! It’ll be good practice for… someday.
At four fifteen, Chad bounced along the road with orders to bring home lasagna from Marcello’s. Willow loved lasagna but rarely asked for it and refused to try to make it. “Some things are perfection as they are.”
While Chad ran several errands including shipping a box of scarves to Aggie’s children, Willow helped the delivery man put his gift into the barn. She couldn’t wait to see what Chad thought of it! It was the most exciting gift she’d ever purchased.
Chad found her in the kitchen practicing Away in a Manger on her dulcimer. “Dinner’s here. Let’s eat.”
“Can you get me more milk from the barn while I cut?”
He rezipped his jacket and stepped back outside. Willow sat the lasagna on the warming shelf of the stove and pulled on her jacket, following the second Chad’s body disappeared into the barn. He slammed into her just as she reached the door. “Woah. Merry Christmas.”
“I can’t believe you bought me a horse!”
“You keep saying that a horse is the only thing keeping this from being a ‘real farm’ so…”
He grabbed her hand and pulled her over to the horse’s stall. “He’s-”
“She… Lacey.”
Chad nodded. “She’s beautiful. What-”
“She’s two years old, a quarter horse and done whatever that means.”
“Dun. It’s her color.”
“They change colors for a while?” Willow was confused.
“You didn’t go through the horse stage when you were a girl, did you?” D-u-n. Dun. It’s the name of the color.” As he explained, Chad smoothed the horse’s neck, patted her face, and ran a hand along her back. “She’s just beautiful.”
“As I said, Merry Christmas. You have to buy your own tacks though.”
“Tack. I’ll look tomorrow while you’re buying up baby supplies.”
Reluctantly, Chad followed Willow to the house several minutes later. “Where did you find her?”
“I asked Terry over at the feed store if he could find me a good horse. He asked around and found Lacey.”
“This is going to make that skein winder seem awfully inadequate.”
“Of course it won’t!” Willow grinned thinking she’d trapped him into admitting her gift. “It’s exactly what I asked for. What better gift could you get me than that?”
“I don’t know but I am going to feel pretty guilty come Christmas morning.”
She passed him a plate of lasagna. “Eat your dinner. Your horse might want a walk around the yard before you go to bed.”
“And then I think it’s time you learned a new game.”
“What game?”
Chad grinned. “Chess.”
“Why do I have the feeling that you are very good at it? Mother never liked the game so we didn’t play it.”
“Well, I’m no Chris. He was the chess master. I was just his practice partner but once in a while I’d win and I don’t think it’s because he let me.”
As he went back out to the barn, Chad dropped a box and rule sheet in her lap. “Read through that a couple of times and I’ll be back.”
“Do you want some hot chocolate?”
“I’ll make it when I come back in. You read.”
Willow grinned as the back door shut behind him and opened the chess set setting up the pieces quickly. When Chad arrived, she grabbed the rules and forced herself to look engrossed in them as he brought steaming cups of hot chocolate. “Well, I’m ready to try it but you’re probably going to have to help me…”
***
“So if you and Mother never played, how did you beat me two games out of three?”
“Beginner’s luck?”
“Who did you play?”
Willow winked as she set the pieces back into their places. “Me.”
“You would.”
The spinning wheel whirled as Willow slowly fed tufts of wool into it, demonstrating the technique she’d mastered in the past few months. Marianne sat on the couch next to her casting on stitches slowly and painfully as she struggled to hold them comfortably. Occasionally, Cheri would look up from her pile of skeins that Marianne brought and as she wound them into balls, complain about her aching hands.
The men, on the other hand, not having the television to shout at, played ‘keep away’ football in the front pasture until Cheri and Chris’s girlfriend went crazy from wool overload and escaped to join them. Shouts and complaints occasionally seeped in through window cracks until Willow and Marianne glanced at each other and raced for their coats.
They played guys against girls, married against single, and mixed teams until the cold and exhaustion drove them inside. Willow watched concerned as Chad stood next to the kitchen stove flexing his right hand as heat worked out the painful muscle spasms. From the other side of the room, Christopher sipped his coffee and prayed silently for his son. “Chad, can you fill me a fresh cup of coffee?”
The request was ludicrous considering Christopher’s cup was over half full but he swallowed a large gulp and forced himself not to wince as the hot liquid burned his throat on the way down. However, it worked. Chad immediately poured himself a fresh cup of coffee and wrapped his cold aching hand around it.
“So what now?” Chuck was like an adolescent with ADD.
“Pictionary?” Marianne’s voice didn’t sound very enthused.
“Apples to Apples?” Cheri sounded only a little more interested in her suggestion than her mother’s.
“Poker?” A shrug and an evil glint in his eye was Chris’s only response to Emily’s playful slug at his suggestion.
“Mother and I often read the Courtship of Miles Standish on Thanksgiving,” Willow suggested helpfully.
Amused glances flitted around the room while Willow waited to see if she should retrieve their volume of Longfellow’s poetry. Chad, knowing his wife was clueless at the internal laughter at her expense, decided to play a joke on Willow and his family at the same time. “I know, let’s play ’stump Willow with Shakespeare.’”
“Okaaaayyy.” Though the entire room glared at Chuck’s lack of tact, he echoed the minds of everyone but Chad and Willow.
Chad, on the other hand, was excited. This would be good. He passed out the three volume set of Shakespeare from the library and told them to pick a quote, any quote and the game was family vs. Willow. “First to ten points wins.”
Willow won in five minutes flat with only one error. Immediately, she took the books from the table and flipped through one carefully for several minutes and then stared at her husband. “I was not wrong! That was Much Ado About Nothing!”
At the guilty expression on his face, Willow raced after Chad. He grabbed his coat and burst through the front door, down the steps, and jumped the fence into the pasture with Willow hot on his heels. The family stood around the large picture window and watched as she finally dove for his ankles toppling him. To their surprise, she pounded him. Her fists flew and his head jerked with each blow until Marianne demanded that Chris go put a stop to it. A minute later, Chris and Willow both pummeled Chad until everyone was sure he’d be unconscious.
Finally, to everyone’s great surprise, Chad jumped to his feet and took a bow, clearly untouched by his ‘beating’. Chris and Willow, doubled over in laughter and panting exhaustedly, waved with one hand while resting the other on their other knees. Christopher gave Marianne a strange look and sighed. “I think our family has corrupted her- or visa versa.”
***
“How can you stand it when he leaves at all hours?” Emily sat curled on Willow’s couch, the rest of the family sleeping in various rooms.
“Probably because it’s all I’ve ever known. I guess maybe it should bother me but it doesn’t.”
“Wouldn’t he be able to help you more if he had normal hours?”
“Actually,” Willow mused thoughtfully. “Just the opposite. Because he’s awake and home during light hours sometimes, Chad can help with more than if he worked from seven to six every night.”
“But weekends…”
“Maybe. We don’t do much work on Sunday though. Not usually anyway.” Willow shrugged.
“Does it take all day? I mean, I saw you out there splitting logs and Chad was milking cows-”
“Goat. Milking the goat. Just one.”
Emily’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “How can you stand all that work just to get a glass of milk. He had to boil stuff and pour it through the cloth and then mark the jar… it was just an awful lot of work. Why not just buy a gallon at the store?”
“Because I don’t want to have to spend the money, I don’t want to walk five miles to get it and walk five miles home every few days. I don’t want the pasteurization and homogination to take away some of the nutrients from the milk. I want it as close as to how God designed it as possible. Milk is such an amazing food.”
“How long have you lived like this?”
“All my life. I don’t know any different. Before last year, I’d never spoken to anyone but my mother, our financial advisor, and a couple of delivery people and even then, rarely.”
“You’re kidding!”
She shook her head smiling indulgently at Emily. ”Outside Bill our advisor, I could count on both hands the number of conversations I can remember having with anyone but Mother before she died.”
“I don’t know how you do it. I just don’t know how you can stand it!”
Rather than defend her lifestyle against the unjust prejudice, Willow shrugged. “I understand that. I remember how flabbergasted I was when I saw how others live. The money they spend on things that next year will be obsolete, the dependency on what others provide as to the choices available…” She gave Emily an embarrassed look. ”I was so revolted by the lack of space and the artifical things like treadmills to simulate a walk. I was fascinated by it- I spent a long time on my friend’s treadmill because it was a novel thing to me but when I thought about what it represented, I was appalled. People manufacturing a simple task like walking didn’t make sense.”
“Marianne thinks you walk on water and generate electricity while you do it.”
“Mom likes playing house out here for a few days at a time every now and then but when it comes down to it, she’s happy to return to her mechanical servants and her stores.”
“Did you ever consider leaving when-” Emily stumbled over the word die and its synonymns. “It happened?” she ended lamely.
“My financial advisor wanted me to take a job offered to me at a store in Rockland.”
“Boho. Cheri told me about your children’s designs.”
“Right. Bill wanted me to come and then get to know him better…” Willow didn’t feel like explaining.
“And you just said no?”
“Emily, I would have suffocated in the city. I need fresh air, meaningful work, and I need to decide what I want and don’t want to do. If there weren’t people like me, vegetables would be obscenely expensive. Without people like you, when people like me slice through their leg with an old fashioned scythe, they’d die. We need different people to do different things. I couldn’t stand your world and you’re not interested in mine. That’s ok.”
***
A dim light shone in the living room window as Chad arrived home at two a.m. He had no doubt that Willow would be waiting for him, a sandwich ready and the living room fire blazing to warm him. Her internal alarm seemed to know exactly when to wake half the time and the other half, he knew she needed her sleep. Their life, almost from the time he met her, had slowly developed a perfect rhythm and harmony to which nothing he’d ever seen could possibly compare.
“I was wrong. I expected a sandwich, not stew.”
“I thought after all that turkey at dinner, you might want something different but I can-”
She’d expected it. As soon as Willow started to pour the stew back in the pan, Chad stole it planting a kiss at her temple. “You are down right feisty.”
“And you like me that way so quit you’re fussing and eat.”
“How’d it go tonight?”
“Well, I found out Emily won’t be trying to move in anytime soon.” His laughter erupted loudly enough to make her clamp her hand over his mouth. “Shh.”
“Not fond of farm life eh?”
“You could say that. She finds the mud, manure, sweat, and unsterile environment revolting.”
“It’s so much more picturesque in one of those country life magazines isn’t it?”
“I don’t know,” she argued as she led the way to the couch. “Our magazines were never picturesque. They were realistic.”
“Well, the country magazines mom always got showed pretty stables with perfectly groomed horses and polished hooves. Kitchens that never saw berry canning or soap making that’s for sure. Just a pretty Sunday dinner and cookies and milk on a school afternoon.”
Willow curled against him sleepily. “Well, she won’t be buying any goats anytime soon, that’s for sure.”
“Are dad and Chris still planning to make it to the sales?”
“As far as I know. They’ll probably be up about the time you leave. Good buy-”
“Best Buy,” he corrected amused.
“Whatever- they’re going there to buy some kind of camera…”
“Got it. Ok. I’ve got a list…” Chad fumbled through his pocket and handed it to her. “Give this to Dad and don’t open it.”
“I take it that you’re not making me that skein winder I asked for?”
As Chad drove back down the driveway, Willow heard the sounds of the men waking up and poured cups of coffee waiting for them. Christopher entered the kitchen first and found Willow waiting for him. “Chad’s list. I’m not supposed to look. I didn’t. Make sure he knows that.”
***
Chad crawled into bed at six-thirty full, exhausted, and hoping his father was successful with the list. Willow’s journal lay open where she’d left it before she crawled into bed after he left.
Black Friday,
This is what they call this day. While the country recuperates from overindulgence, they over indulge in other areas as well. In some ways, it seems to indicate excess in all forms of American society. Why else would it take until one month before the end of the year for some businesses to turn a profit? I cannot comprehend that.
However, when I see the excitement in Chad’s face, the grand elaborate schemes for hiding their plans from each other right under the very noses that they’re deceiving, it all has a delightful air of mystery about it. I don’t think it’d ever be my ‘thing’ but I love seeing the comaradarie between the men as they sallie forth to slay the gift dragon in their quest to please a loved one. It’s almost gallant in a strange sort of way.
I spoke with Emily about our life here. I spoke confidently and I hope, compassionately. I know I had, well have really, strong opinions about the average American lifestyle. So much of it seems lazy and self-centered to me but as Chad has pointed out numerous times, I’m just as self-centered in my own way.
It did make me wonder, however. Just how many of Chad’s dreams and preferences did he give up to marry me? Am I holding him back from… something? Did he choose this farm because that’s what it meant if he chose me or did he choose me and got a blessing with the farm? Is it a blessing to him as it is to me? He never complains. He works just as hard as I do and yet, why?
What did he give up to marry me and would I have given up something that great and wonderful to marry him, whatever it was? I know he loves reading about my childhood but did he really think about what it meant to choose the life that produced it? I think I am beginning to see just what an amazing man I have married. Even if this life was his frst choice, he chose me to share it with him.
Me, with all my stubbornness, my… oh my. I am struck with awe and wonder. This man loves me. I know this and when I think of it… does he have any idea how much I truly love him?
Mother, you prepared me for everything I could ever face in this life- except for how to share it with someone like Chad. The one area I need the most help now is the one I am sure to fail. Lord please don’t let me fail him. Lord please give me the courage to ask about what he wants for his life- for our life. Prepare me for the answer I just maybe don’t want to hear.
Chad’s face settled into a lazy smile as he slid between fresh sheets that smelled faintly of lavender. His head sank into the softest pillow he’d ever used, and he pulled quilts and blankets over him that he knew had been made by his wife’s hands. His sweats and t-shirt appeared like clockwork in his drawers, always fresh and clean. The scent of the family’s breakfast slowly wafted up the staircase but Chad’s stomach was already full and happy having come home to a breakfast he’d never get anywhere else.
“What I want Lord? Remind me to tell her I want exactly what I have. Right here. Right now.” As he drifted off to sleep, Chad added one more thought. “Unless you wanted to add a baby or three into that mix. That’d be just about exactly right.
October
Well, Chad has been back to work for almost six weeks. He spends much time with target practice when he’s off work. He has all kinds of hand exercises that he does. I think he’s concerned that as it grows cold, his hand will grow stiffer. I just don’t know sometimes if he’ll be able to keep working. At what point, will his hand fail him and will it be in the worst instance possible?
The harvest is over, we are settled in for winter and I’ve been spending the past week trying to make our staples order. We need salt, oils, spices, baking powder and soda, paraffin, and things like candle wicking. I didn’t buy those things last year and it shows. I actually had to have Chad buy me some salt from the store. How strange.
The packaging from stores astounds me. I have a dream of running a store where there are no packages. People bring their container, I fill it up with whatever they’re purchasing, weigh it, and charge by the ounce or something. Can you imagine the waste that could be prevented? It is incredible. Of course, I suppose the people who make their living by creating and producing that packaging would be out of work. That’s what Chad said when I mentioned it. I wonder what they would do, those people. Would they decide to live a dream they put on the back burner, or is their packaging job their dream? Is it arrogant and rude of me to find that a horrifying thought?
I am getting better at the dulcimer. I bought a book that explains how to read music and a book of music but I find that I prefer to learn it as Chad calls it, ‘by ear’. I think this is what Mother warned against- this dependency on what I hear rather than knowing how to read and know at sight what to do. I won’t quit though. I love sitting in my rocking chair by the kitchen stove and playing music while something bakes. Chad loves it too. He doesn’t think I know it, but he comes in the front door, leans against the wall opposite me, and listens. I can see him standing there as if he was in sight. I know he leans against the wall, he crosses his arms, tilts his head back, and closes his arms. If footprints are any indication, he also rests one foot against the wall.
Winter is coming quickly. The greenhouse is flourishing though. I am always amazed at how well things grow in there. I start a fire while I’m in there and it keeps the plants happy. They don’t grow as lush when it’s cold but they do grow amazingly well if a bit smaller. I have much more food growing than I need and that was the idea.
On that idea, I have decided to follow Chad’s idea and build a vegetable stand. I’ll be open Monday through Thursday and let Jill have what produce I don’t sell for her Farmer’s Market. We both win since she could never sell all that I can produce if I choose. I’m moving the garden to the alfalfa field next year and will plant alfalfa in the garden spot as well as on some of the land that we bought from Adric. We’ve been planning the fields and I think it’s going to work. It’ll be perfect I think.
I am also buying more sheep. A dozen lambs will be here next June. We thought about breeding the sheep but I’m not ready for that yet. I love the work and I’m ready to take on the spinning and eventually the shearing but I just don’t want to deal with pregnant sheep and new lambs. Not yet. Caleb thinks I’m crazy and Ryder is thrilled. It amazes me how much Caleb loves the animals and how much Ryder is only interested in the plants. If I ran a full scale operation, I’d hire them both full time to run each aspect of the farm but we’re too small for that.
Chad read the entry in late November and smiled. So, she knew about his trysts behind the wall as she learned to play the instrument. It amazed him how perceptive she was. It also amazed him how often she asked him to go look up something she’d written in her journal. His experience with Cheri for a sister had taught him that not all women like men reading their journals.
November,
We’re killing the poison ivy and oak. It took us a while to find Mother’s references to how she did it but once we did, we’re succeeding. So far, we’ve kept ourselves free from contamination but it isn’t an easy job. Come spring, we’ll have to walk the entire length of land every other week to eradicate any new growth but if we’re vigilant, we shouldn’t have to worry about it. Chad did find a new growth of ivy on our land where the trees thin close to Adric’s old property. Apparently over time seeds blew or something but it’s gone now. For now.
Chad keeps an unhealthy watch on my cycles. Honestly, we’ve only been married for six months but sometimes he acts like it’s been six years. I begin to feel pressured to produce but it isn’t like there’s much I can do about it. Mother conceived under the least promising of circumstances. From what I read, it is highly uncommon for the stress of a situation like that to produce a child. It can, it just usually won’t while I, on the other hand, have the best of circumstances and yet I wait. Mom Tesdall tells me that the colder it gets, the more she expects to hear news but I cannot imagine why. I didn’t know temperature had anything to do with it. I should ask Chad.
Jill has suggested that I consider raising mushrooms. I always wanted to eat the mushrooms and toadstools that grow wild in our woods but Mother didn’t know and didn’t care to learn which were safe and which were poisonous. In a controlled environment, it’d be easy to do I guess. Maybe I should order a book and see what it says. Mushrooms in our own cooking would be delightful! I loved the various kinds we had while we were in California and the ones Chad brings home are so ridiculously expensive.
I am growing spoiled in this marriage. Where I once dreaded the idea of snores across the hallway keeping me up at night, I now find it lonesome when Chad is away from home. My work load is even lighter than it was when Mother was here even though the amount of work we have has doubled. I wonder sometimes, what did Mother do? During the busiest times, I know she was there helping to package butchered chickens or can the garden produce. I know she did almost all of the alfalfa cutting and storage but Chad did that this year in very little time with that machine of his.
I just can’t remember what she did all day. Am I forgetting her? I can still hear her voice singing over the dishes. Mother was incredibly inefficient with time when she washed dishes. Why did I never notice that? I hear her reading me parts of commentaries. Her voice hasn’t left me but if it weren’t for the thousands of pictures that I have of our life, I am afraid that I would have forgotten her face already. Even now, unless I glance at the framed picture on my dresser, I don’t remember her. Is it wrong that I am growing content in her absence? Is it cold and heartless that I am thankful God sent someone else to be there for me? I’d love to see her again. I miss her almost daily but the longer time goes on, the more I realize how much happier she is where she is. I do think that had I died as an infant, Mother wouldn’t have kept going She would have given up- or worse. I see now that her only happiness in the last twenty or so years of her life was in me and the knowledge that someday she’d be with Jesus and away from this earth.
Thanksgiving is this week. We’re going to have Cheri and Chuck, Mom and Dad Tesdall, and Christopher says he’s bringing someone. Mom Tesdall is beside herself with excitement. I had planned to cook several chickens but apparently one must have a turkey for Thanksgiving. So, I’ll be roasting the bird in the Summer Kitchen because I am not confident in keeping the oven at an even temperature for so long. Mom Tesdall is baking pecan pie and pumpkin pie. I’m supposed to make berry cobbler. Cheri is bringing a ‘green bean casserole’. Whatever that is. Chad says I’ll love it or hate it.
Mom Tesdall wants me to teach her how to knit. She’s bringing ‘everything she needs’ but I have a feeling she’ll have more things than anyone would need to get started but I can’t wait to have them here. I’ll give her some of the wool I dyed with the Kool-aid packages that Mom sent me. Every week or two, she sends something because she ‘thought of’ me. Sometimes I get packets of pretty paper for our journals, fabric, or a book. Once it was an article on how to dye wool with children’s flavored drink packets. Oh my mason jars full of brightly colored yarns were so pretty! I’m going to do that again!
Lily stopped by last week and asked how Chad and I are doing as a couple. She told me that we needed to focus on us as a couple but I have no idea what that means. Isn’t that what we do every night when we read to each other, work on our projects, or take a walk? Isn’t that what our more intimate times are all about? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what she meant but I need to remember to ask Chad. Maybe I’m failing him someway as a wife and I don’t want to do that but maybe we’re just not supposed to look like every other marriage. Isn’t it reasonable to assume that some marriages will be different than others? I think it is. Somehow I think all the introspection into how we’re ‘doing’ could be just as damaging as never thinking about it at all. What do I know. I should ask Chad. Why do I get the feeling that he’ll just laugh at me and roll his eyes at Lily.
Chad’s laughter brought Willow jogging upstairs. “Did Lily really ask how we’re doing as a couple?”
“Yep. After I wrote that, I wondered if maybe since I am not pregnant yet she assumed you still lived in the other bedroom or something.”
“Possible. You know, I didn’t mean to make you feel pressured about pregnancy.”
She pushed him out of the way and pulled open her sock drawer. “My feet are frozen.” As she passed him on her way downstairs, she quipped. “I don’t feel pressured at all.” At the top of the stairs, he heard her mutter at stage tones for his benefit, “Perhaps all I need is a bit more pressure in my life.”
The spiraling descent from the mountains was a study in contrasts. Slowly the lush greenery gave way to trees, then rolling hills and finally on the highway, they whizzed into the barren brush dotted desert. As they passed large housing tracts, complete with back yards not large enough for a volleyball game, Willow shook her head.
“There’s all this land… why is everyone so packed together?”
“I don’t know. You’d think land would be cheap when its unfit for growing and so far from the ocean.”
Willow consulted her map and shook her head. “It’s just over a hundred miles to the ocean. That’s not that far. That’s a trip to Rockland and back.”
Eventually the traffic along the narrow highway thinned, the stoplights disappeared, and they zipped along the road occasionally passed by an SUV or trapped behind a slow moving truck. The land was hilly, rising and falling from valley to valley though the road but the road seemed straight as it sliced through the landscape. Odd spiky trees with branches that looked like a medieval mace stood alone against the landscape and occasionally in mini ‘forests’.
At one corner, traffic converged between highways but Chad continued straight ahead. Fields of solar panels flanked them on the left in direct opposition to the blank canvas of scrubby nothingness on their right. After a steep climb, a strange cluster of buildings, one with a gigantic ‘ping-pong ball’ on top, appeared on their left. The sign, as they rolled past slower than before, identified it as a closed federal penitentiary.
“Are you sure this is the way to Death Valley?”
“We’re going to Ridgecrest first. It’s called the ‘Gateway to Death Valley’ but I’ll confess, I’m going there because it is mentioned in one of Ted Dekker’s books and I want to see it. I think it’s a little out of the way to get to Death Valley but it has hotels so I thought it’d be more comfortable too.”
“I think this is so amazing. There are a million colors of brown and green that I’ve never seen before!” Willow’s eyes never stopped roaming the countryside as she pointed out trails, motorcyclists, and the occasional jackrabbit.
A huge sign that read, “Ridgecrest, Gateway to Death” with the word Valley blackened out loomed in the distance. Around the curve, after turning onto a new road, the car sped up a slight hill and slowly showed the valley below them. “That’s Ridgecrest.”
“Down there?”
“Yep.”
“But, there’s no ridge. That’s a valley!” Willow wasn’t the first person to be confused by the oxymoronic name.
“I think that valley is called the Indian Wells Valley.”
“Why did they-”
Chad interrupted her laughing. “I don’t know! Maybe ask someone in the town. I just know the name.”
“The name is stupid.”
“That,” he commented still laughing, “I’ll agree with.”
***
Chad felt like a fool. Who knew that a little place like Ridgecrest would be low on hotel rooms. As they’d driven into town, they’d seen dozens of motels but when they arrived at the Springhill his travel plans suggested, he discovered them booked solid. The hotel sent them back up the street to the Carriage Inn who in turn, suggested the Heritage on the next major street parallel to their current one.
Whether their directions were inaccurate or Chad in his frustration didn’t listen well, he turned left rather than right. They passed several churches, a large area of empty land, and then rolled at a snail’s pace down the wide and now residential street. Children walked home from school terrifying Chad at their antics and as he saw UPS trucks whizzing by much too fast on the twenty-five mile per hour stretch. At the next stop sign, Chad turned left and made a u-turn in a parking lot. It wasn’t supposed to be this far.
“Maybe I was supposed to turn right at that light instead of left.”
“There’s a man out there digging a hole. Stop and I’ll ask. What’s the name of the place again?”
Forcing himself to keep his thoughts to himself, Chad pulled over and watched as Willow hurried to the side of the hole. Children of various ages spilled from the house listening curiously as Willow asked directions. The youngest, bounced up to her excitedly and said, “Mommy is getting a purple tree!”
“A purple tree! Wow! I’ve never seen a purple tree.”
The man laughed. “It has purple flowers- a Jacaranda. My wife loves them.”
“Well, thank you for the directions. I hope your tree is very happy in its new home.”
Chad, shaking his head as Willow chattered about the tree, wondering what a Jacaranda looked like and how all of those children had fit into that tiny house, drove toward the hotel. “I can’t believe how you just stop and ask anyone anything.”
“I can’t believe you’d drive in circles for an hour rather than ask.”
“I can’t believe how we have the world’s most unusual life and marriage and are still exactly like every married couple I’ve ever seen!” Chad countered as he pulled into the hotel parking lot. “It’s almost scary.”
***
Ninety-eight miles from Ridgecrest , Chad and Willow pulled up to the famous “Scotty’s Castle” and marveled at the beauty of the desert villa before ever exiting the car. The sun was hot overhead and while they’d enjoyed the top down on their convertible for most of their California trip, the mountains and deserts were both too cool and too warm to be comfortable. A castle tour started only five minutes after they arrived and as they wandered through the rooms with original furniture and clothing and serenaded by the massive pipe organ. Immediately following, they wandered the quarter mile of tunnels and were fascinated by the alternate power options.
“Why don’t they finish the pool?” Willow couldn’t comprehend storing thousands of tiles for almost a hundred years instead of completing the project.
“The depression hit and the funds weren’t there. It isn’t your typical swimming pool. It’s quite elaborate,” the tour guide answered lazily.
“All this room for two people,” Willow commented to Chad as they wandered the grounds. “They have staff housing. Who needs staff when you have nothing else to do?”
“Maybe they wanted to spend all day playing that organ.”
“Or building the pool,” she quipped laughing. “I can’t imagine all this space and time and what you’d do with yourself if you didn’t have work to do.”
“So in the immortal words of Carroll O’Connor in Return to Me, ‘I’m blessed with work.’”
“What’s Return to Me?”
Chad laughed. “A movie I’ll let my mom know you haven’t seen. You’ll love it.”
Before she could respond, a strange looking creature darted across the desert floor and Willow chased after it. She shouted for Chad to head it off on the left and then pounced like a cat. “I got it! What is it?”
Howling, Chad poked at the little horned toad and said, “Horned toad. It’s a kind of lizard I think.”
“Oh it’s cute. I wonder if it could live in Fairbury?”
“Probably not and even if it could, the airline wouldn’t let him come.”
Disappointed, Willow put the critter back on the ground and watched him skitter away again. “He was so unique!”
“Let’s get pictures of this. I want our children to see what amazing places we visited.” Chad tugged at her hand leading her away from the bush.
***
“And here we are in Napa Valley,” Chad described the train ride they’d taken, the beautiful vineyards, and the incredible climate.
“The next one is at the capital. The woman that took it had the most adorable little boy- all smiles. Her daughters were a little shy but so cute watching their little brother while mom took our picture.”
“They were there on a field trip,” Chad explained. “See all those kids milling around with all those parents? Homeschoolers. The place was packed with them.”
“I liked that mom. What was her name again?”
“Dawn. She had such a great time with her kids and those girls were so adorable talking about the state legislature and everything.”
Marianne Tesdall pointed at a picture of the Golden Gate bridge. “Was it as beautiful in person as the pictures?”
Willow shook her head. “It’s prettier from afar but the most amazing thing were the cable cars and the BART.”
Chad laughed at that one. “Mom, this woman fell apart in the Aquarium seeing all that water around her so I didn’t tell her where the BART ran until after we got back across the bay. She thinks it is the neatest thing ever.”
“Well, now that I won’t have to ride it again, it’s amazing but if I had to go under there now, forget it.”
“Here is the Jelly Belly factory,” Chad said excitedly. “That was a blast. The boy who took our picture here was a neat kid. He told us where to go for lunch, showed off his new baby brother, and introduced us to his mom.”
‘I liked the little guy- he was what, about five? He told us all about the factory- we didn’t need a tour guide just him.”
“Another field trip?” Christopher laughed at Chad and Willow hugging a giant jelly bean.
“More homeschoolers. I think we ran into more homeschoolers in California than I have in my whole life,” Chad insisted. “It was nice to see though. Somehow I always pictured them hiding out in the house until the school kids got home and then trying to blend in.”
“Fairbury has good schools, don’t they?”
Before his parents could get sidetracked on educational choices, Chad pulled out the pictures of Pismo beach, the PCH, and Santa Barbara.
“I loved the Santa Barbara mission the most I think. It was amazing and the whole town was beautiful. We walked along streets and window shopped, they had a great museum, and oh that IHOP with the tree inside!”
“There was a tree inside the building?” Marianne shook her head.
“Fig tree. It was such an unusual thing to be sitting there next to a tree!” Willow’s eyes glazed over in memory.
“I think I liked the hills behind Ojai best. Those streams and the rocks…”
“I think it all sounds amazing. Did you go to the beach much?”
“It was pretty cool most of the time but we had fun anyway. There is so much to do in California, I was amazed.” Willow grinned at Chad. “Yes Chad, you were right. I sit in awe at your marvelous suggestion!”
“He’s just dragging out the inevitable. Day after tomorrow, he has to go back to work.”
“Mom!” Chad grinned as he protested but Willow noticed him clenching his right hand at his side.
She grew quiet as she listened to the banter between Chad and his parents and watched Chad’s face. Two of the scratches had left scars. The one near his right eye was usually lost in the crinkles around his eyes as he laughed but when relaxed, it showed just how close he’d come to losing the eye. The other, no laugh line or wrinkle would ever hide. It cut across his cheek at an odd angle making him look almost sinister when he was thinking hard or angry.
Perhaps they should have taken the suggestion for corrective surgery more seriously but at the time, both Chad and Willow had endured all of the medical intervention into their lives that they could handle. Now, Willow wasn’t so sure. Would he regret it in ten or twenty years when children or grandchildren stroked his cheek and wondered why his face looked perpetually scratched?
“What did you say?”
“I asked what your favorite part of California was,” Marianne repeated patiently.
“I think,” she answered finally, “It wasn’t a particular place- it was how everything changed from one mile to the next… well, except maybe for the desert. That seemed to go on forever at times, but then you’d climb a hill and it’d be completely different. I’ve never imagined something like that before. I’ve only know my farm and a little bit of Rockland in the past year or so.”
“Will you want to travel again?” Christopher winked at his son. He knew what Chad had been thinking.
“Oh Definitely!”
“Will you take our picture?” Willow held up their digital camera eagerly.
The petite red headed woman smiled and nodded. “Certainly. You want it in front of the sign?”
Willow bounced excitedly. “Yes! Everyone keeps telling us to eat at In-n-Out so we’re doing it.”
The little boy with the woman watched them shyly and smiled as his mother insisted they ’say cheese’ before she snapped the button. “Here you go. You’re not from California then?”
“No. We’re from Rockland. Just on vacation- on our way to the mountains.” Chad jerked his hand at the restaurant behind him. “What do you recommend in there.”
The woman laughed. “You have a choice of hamburgers, fries, hamburgers, or fries. That’s all they serve but they’re famous for them.”
“Thanks for the picture.”
“The mountain is a great place to go especially now that the biggest vacation time is over. It’ll be quieter.” The woman took a few steps away and then turned and said, “God bless you two. Have a wonderful vacation and a safe trip home.”
“Thank you- um…”
“Annie. You’re welcome.” She hesitated. “You know, look under the cups and on the wrappers and the fry box. There’s a tiny message on them that always blesses me.”
While Annie and her son disappeared into a vehicle and drove away, Chad and Willow stood before the cash register and ordered double-double cheeseburgers with grilled onions, fries, and chocolate shakes, ‘for here’. They watched the employees as the cut fries, put fresh meat on the grill, and literally toasted the buns. By the time their number was called, Willow had decided to buy Chad one of the gaily colored t-shirts as a souvenir. She could just imagine him milking Ditto’s successor or giving the next dinner cow water while wearing that shirt. The irony of it tickled her
“Well, I have to admit, they’re good. They’re really good.”
Willow nodded her agreement and examined her burger wrapper closely. “Look, this is what she- Annie, was talking about. Nahum 1:7 is printed right there!”
“The verse?” Chad looked at his wrapper but didn’t find it. Finally he saw the reference. “I wish I had my Bible.”
“It’s um…oh man. The one about the Lord being helpful in trouble and that He knows who trusts in Him.”
Chad was already examining his cup. He lifted the lid and glanced inside, checked the seam, and finally lifted it to look beneath. “This one has Proverbs 3:5.”
“Trust in the Lord with all thine heart and lean not unto thine own understanding.”
“Impressive.”
“Isn’t it!” Willow was thrilled. “I can’t imagine what made them do it but it’s brilliant. You put it out there without preaching and trust that it won’t return void.”
Laughing, Chad swallowed hard and tried to get a drink after choking on his burger. The shake didn’t work. “Get- Coke,” he begged.
Willow raced to buy a drink, tipped the cup on the way to fill it, and hurried back. “This one says John 3:16.”
After a few gulps. Chad took a deep breath. “So they’re ready in season… or is that seasoning.”
“Are you ok?”
“I’m fine. There’s nothing on the fry thing that I can see.” Chad looked disappointed.
“I never thought I’d read wrappers so carefully. I wonder how many people actually look up the reference.” Unaware of Chad’s amusement at her expense, Willow glanced around the restaurant trying to see if anyone noticed the little words that meant so much to her.
As he watched, delighted with her perspective on life, free of the cynical thoughts he had about the effectiveness of a tiny Bible reference that few would see and even fewer would read, Chad took a deep breath and sighed. “Lass…”
“Hmm?” She didn’t even look his way.
“I love you.”
A slow smile spread across her face as she turned to see what prompted his latest reminder. “That is really nice to hear.”
***
The climb into the mountains began almost immediately after they left the restaurant. Tight winding roads wound around the mountain on a slow climb with occasional turn outs. Willow, of course, wanted to stop, take in the view, while Chad in typical male fashion was on a mission to conquer the destination in as little time as possible. Her eyes widened as he snapped for her to sit down when she tried to rise onto her knees to see the view below them.
“What is wrong with you!”
“If we got in an accident, you’d be thrown out and killed. Get down.”
“Then pull over!”
“There’ll be views when we get there Willow, we just got started again.” The irritation hadn’t left his voice.
Willow sank into her seat, correcting the seatbelt and staring at Chad in shock, hurt, and dismay. “What is the rush Chad? I don’t understand.”
“We just got back on the road and you want to pull over already.”
“And I ask again,” she repeated very slowly, “What is the rush? So what if we just got back on the road? I thought the idea was to see California, not to whiz past it as quickly as possible.”
The logic was irrefutable but Chad was peeved. “And I’ll say again, why do you want to stop when we just got going again!”
“Because I want to see!”
The next turnout Chad swerved into the turnout slamming on his brakes as he did. “There. Have at it.”
Lost as to why Chad was being so grumpy, Willow grabbed their camera and left the car feeling half-abandoned. So far, he’d been interested when she wanted to see this or that but she knew instinctively that he didn’t plan to move from his seat. Two cars passed before she could jog across the road and lean against the railing that helped keep cars from tumbling down the hill if they slid off the pavement.
The view was breathtaking. Trees slowly gave way to dirt and then buildings rose up from the ground. Cars zipped to unknown places and while the air was crisp and clean from her vantage point, she could see a brownish-gray haze over the valley below her. “Chad, is that haze down there, is that pollution?” she called curiously
“Yes.” His answer was curt.
“Wow, you can see it! I can sense it in Rockland sometimes. It feels like I can’t get enough air, but I’ve never seen it like this.”
Ignoring his grunt, she snapped a few pictures and walked across the road. The car door was stuck with the seatbelt trapped into it. Chad irritably kicked it from the inside while she lifted on the handle and then stumbled back against the mountain at the force of the door flying open. “Ooof.”
The moment she was buckled, Chad shot out on the highway. They drove up the mountain, the wind flying through their hair, what of it Chad kept on his head, and at the top where Chad should have made a right turn, in his haste and irritation, he made a left. Willow watched the trees fly by, amazed as she saw houses packed together and set into the side of the mountain. Eventually, Chad pulled into the parking lot of Johnnie’s Market and General Store grabbing his printouts and grumbling over them.
“What’s wrong?”
“This isn’t right. We should be in Arrowhead by now but that sign I just saw says Lake Gregory which…” he turned the papers as if they’d tell him something different. “According to this, is the opposite direction from Lake Arrowhead.”
“Well, let’s ask someone.”
“I’ll figure it out,” he groused.
A dark green Suburban pulled up beside their car. A cute teenager jumped out with a bright smile on her face. “Cool car!”
“Thank you,” Willow answered smiling. “Can you tell us how to get to Lake Arrowhead?”
Another voice broke in before the girl could answer. “It’s only about ten miles back down the road. You take Lake to Hwy 18 to Hwy 189. Where are you going in Arrowhead?”
Willow smiled at a sweet looking woman with an adorable baby on her hip. “I don’t remember, what’s the name of that inn Chad?”
“Lakeview Lodge.”
“Oh! That’s a lovely place,” the woman continued before being interrupted by a child in the backseat of her car. “Coming Si.”
“I want to see the car! Can I see the car?”
Before the mother could ask, the young woman dashed around to help her little brother and sister from their seats. Small children swarmed the convertible jumping and squealing. The boy gave Chad a serious expression and asked, “Where are you going in that car?”
“We’re trying to find some place to sleep.”
“You don’t have a house?”
Chad laughed. “Not in California but back where we live, we have a little farm with sheep, a cow, a dog, and a goat.”
“We have goats!” The boy’s eyes lit up excitedly. “The mama is going to have babies.”
“That sounds very exciting.”
“Are you going fishing?”
With mock sorrow, Chad shook his head. “I wish I could but we didn’t bring our fishing gear.”
“My daddy has fishing poles and a boat and everything. You could go fishing with him.”
“Si, let’s go in now.”
“I was telling him- I was telling him how to go fishing.”
Chad and Willow watched as the family disappeared into the store and then Willow sighed. “Wasn’t he adorable?”
“Yeah. Did you see that baby?”
“She was so cute!”
He took a deep breath and laced his fingers through hers. “Sorry Lass. I was being a bear.”
“I still don’t understand.”
“I don’t either. I think it’s genetically wired into men to focus on a destination and any obstacle to that destination must be eradicated at all costs.”
“Huh?”
“I don’t know but I remember when I was a kid, I hated it when Dad refused to stop. He’d be zipping past all the best places while we all begged him to stop. When did I become my dad?”
“I don’t know,” Willow answered shrugging her shoulders, “But usually I’d say that was a good thing. Just not in this one. I want to enjoy this trip.”
“I’m going to do it again.”
Willow grinned. “I know.”
***
“This is a mountain lodge?”
The door to their cabin stood open revealing a shabby chic and Victorian dream. The room was beautiful; there was no mistaking that. However, there was nothing like the mountain lodge they’d anticipated. Their imaginations had conjured ideas of log furniture, pine trees, boats, bears, and similar things but instead, they found roses, wreaths, antiques, and the delicate scent of floral candles.
“Well, it’s pretty,” Chad commented carefully.
“Well, yes. It is. The bed looks comfortable. It’s huge!”
“It’s quiet up here,” he tried again.
Their laughter rang out hysterically. Chad dropped their suitcases by the door and flagged down the owner as she hurried to her car. “Can you get a picture of us please?”
The innkeeper crossed the yard quickly taking the camera as she did. “Do you have plans for the day?”
“We were just going to drive around and see the area.”
“Try Woody’s down on the Lake. It has a beautiful view.” She handed them their camera and waved with the admonition, “Just let us know if you need anything.”
Chad waved at her and then pointed to the suitcases. “So, you want to try hiking around?”
“I’m starving.”
“Ok, change, food, water for hiking. In that order.”
Within the hour, Chad parked at the north shore campground, and they took off up hiking trails. Willow was fascinated with the nature around them. She listened for birds, watched squirrels darting to the campsites and racing back to their homes. She dropped her water bottle and started to retrieve it but Chad grabbed her hand. “What are you doing!”
“Getting my bottle?”
“That’s poison oak!”
She stared at it with a disgusted look. “Oh. Mother hated that stuff.”
“You’ve never seen it? The woods around Rockland are full of it!”
“Mother killed it. By the time I was nine or ten, it was gone. She didn’t let me anywhere near where it was. I think,” Willow confessed giggling, “Mother had a bad experience with it.”
“How do you kill all the poison ivy and oak in such a big area?”
“Diligence. Mother was nothing if not diligent.”
Half an hour later, she was an expert at identifying, and avoiding, all poison ivy and oak thanks to Chad’s careful training. “We’ll have to read what Mother did to kill that on your land so we can kill it from the land we bought from Adric,” Willow mused absently as they climbed.
“Do you have any idea how amazing it is that we have that record? Do you have any clue how rare it is to know so much about your parents’ day to day lives? I have no idea how mom learned to cook, or to rear children or anything like that. I can ask but I don’t have a ready reference at my fingertips like you do.”
“We do.”
Arms around his wife, he looked out over the tree covered mountains and agreed quietly. “We do.”
On their trip through California, Willow and Chad hear the legendary Big Gerry! (Click on the link to hear a sample of the music!) Now look at the sweet dude…
He comes every Christmas to Santa’s Art Shop in Ridgecrest California and I love him! His Sierra Christmas CD is out of this world! I LOVE it. It’s one of my favorite Christmas CD.
The Prize?
I’m going to do a random number generator on Valentine’s Day! You can post all the entries you like! Post all day if it floats your boat. but… you have to post them over at Fairbury Tales.
The car whizzed down the freeway on Saturday afternoon. The initial traffic congestion that they’d encountered seemed gone as they zipped past exciting names like Laguna Beach, San Clemente, and Oceanside and in less time than expected, they pulled into the huge Ikea parking lot. The expression on Willow’s face was priceless.
“That store is the size of the Rockland mall!”
“Well, no, it’s not that big but it seems like it, doesn’t it.” Chad hurried to open her door. “Mom went to one in Chicago and loved it. Rockland is supposed to get one in two years. I can’t wait!”
Chad’s enthusiasm made no sense to her but Willow tried to enter into the spirit of the shopping trip wondering what about a store could be so marvelous. “Do they sell books?”
“No.”
She nodded. There was no way the store could be all that wonderful unless… “What about fabric?”
“Maybe,” he said trying to remember if his mother had said she could buy fabric to match or that she wished she could. “I think so.”
“I need a restroom. I’ll meet you out here in a minute.”
A woman with over half a dozen children, some dressed in coordinating clothing, stood outside the bathrooms waiting for something or someone. Willow smiled at them and asked if the line went out the door but the woman assured her that they were finished. “My friend is in there with her girls. I’m just keeping an eye on the rest of us.”
Inside the restroom, a woman helped small children wash hands and dry them carefully. “Are you ladies a school or…”
“Just friends hangin’ out together.”
“You have lovely children.” Willow didn’t know what else to say. She’d never seen anyone except for Aggie with so many children and these two women appeared to have just as many.
Outside the restrooms, Willow pointed out the women to Chad as they stepped into the elevator and as the doors shut said, “They each have at least half a dozen children! I thought only Aggie-”
“Lots of people have larger families. Not as many as have small ones, no. But they stand out more.”
Once the elevator opened, the topic of large families flew out the window. Chad and Willow wandered through the showroom looking at kitchens, bedrooms, living spaces, and offices. The rooms were nothing like anything Willow had ever seen or imagined. A side of her loved them while another side of her found them too sterile.
The marketplace was another story. She wandered from dishes to organizers to rugs amazed at the sheer volume of items sold in one single location. Chad was nearly as awed and kept saying, “And people call Wal-mart the mega store. These people actually manufacture all this stuff expressly to sell in this place.”
To his amazement, Willow wandered back through the marketplace at one point, grabbed a cart, and started shopping. She found organizer boxes and crates and stuffed them in the cart. How she expected to get home with the huge bags of things, he didn’t know but when they arrived at the check-out counter and found that they had to buy big blue bags to carry it all out, Willow’s smug satisfaction was almost too comical.
“Finally someone who sells wisely. People can bring these back every time and save store and customer a fortune in bags that are otherwise useless.”
“Well, some people use them for trash later but-”
“But you can’t burn plastic without it stinking horribly. Paper and cloth are better.”
Outside the store, Willow glanced up at Chad apologetically. “I’m starving. I think I forgot to eat breakfast this morning.”
“Well there’s fast food here but maybe we should find something a little… better.”
“Where do we find better?” Willow was eager. She’d had fast food only a few times and didn’t care for it.
“Maybe we can find a visitor’s center or-”
Before he finished, she was off and hurrying down a parking row. Chad shook his head as he realized she was chasing down the mothers from the bathroom. “Oh Willow, only you-”
“Excuse me! Can you help us?”
At the sound of Willow’s voice, the women glanced at each other nervously and immediately issued orders for their children to get in the two large vans parked side by side. “Well…” the blonde one hedged.
“You see, we’re visiting from out of state and well, we don’t know this area at all. In Santa Monica someone suggested a good restaurant and it was great so we thought maybe you’d have an idea for something San Diego-ish for a food recommendation?”
The dark haired woman shrugged and pointed to her friend. “That’s your department Melissa. I don’t know anything around here yet.”
“El Zarape down on Park. Here.”
In minutes, Willow raced down the row to their car waving a sheet of paper with directions to the ‘best fish taco in the San Diego area’. “She said we wouldn’t regret it.”
“I already do,” he muttered under his breath revolted at the idea of fish in tacos. “I hope they have other tacos too.”
“Oh come on, have some sense of adventure- turn left.”
“How far away is this place?”
Willow sighed impatiently. “She said two or three miles. Turn left at the next street.”
“I can’t believe you asked total strangers where to go for food.”
Willow hadn’t, until this trip, been inducted into the not-so-secret society of wives with husbands who cannot fathom the concept of asking for directions. Now, she sat staring at him as though he was insane. “You’re kidding me, right? People ask you directions to places every day and you’re surprised that I asked someone?”
“I’m a cop. People ask cops. They don’t ask strangers on the street.”
“But you’re still a stranger! You’re an officer but you’re still a stranger.”
Chad didn’t know how to make her understand why people should and do trust officers over the average Joe on the street. As they pulled up to the restaurant, Chad had to drive half a block, park and they walked back. “I can’t believe we’re eating at a hole in the wall like this. It’s insane.”
Willow finally stopped in the center of the sidewalk and waited for her to look at her. “Do you not want to go here? I thought you were joking but if you really don’t want this, then let’s find something you do want.”
“This is fine.”
“Is it?” she demanded. “It doesn’t sound like it’s ok. It sounds like it’s a problem.”
“I just didn’t expect lunch at a greasy spoon but I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“I think,” she said finally, “I think I’d rather skip it. It’s not worth it. There’s that pizza we saw. Let’s go back there.”
Chad knew he’d been a jerk. Willow had decided she was hungry, didn’t want fast food, found another alternative without expecting him to know what to do in a strange place and he’d done nothing but complain because the idea of fish tacos made his stomach churn. There was no reason not to go have a normal beef or chicken taco and let her enjoy her disgusting choice. Even as he thought it, he realized that he was still being a twit.
“Willow, will you do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
Her attitude surprised him. He’d expected a bit of sulking in the least. “Will you go order a fish taco and whatever else you want in there and pretend I wasn’t a first-class jerk right now?”
She grinned. “You’re sure?”
Even as she said it, Chad felt even more stupid than ever. Since when had Willow ever sulked? “I’m more than sure. You eat fish. I’ll get carne or something.”
***
Monday morning, they took off to visit the San Diego Mission. To Chad’s surprise, Willow was a storehouse of information about the San Diego Mission. While Chad was ready to enter and begin the tour, Willow stood outside looking up to see the bells and described which was original and telling him about how the other large bell was made from remnants of the original bells. She described when the bells were commissioned and why and the one day a year that all five bells ring at the same time.
“How do you know so much about this mission?”
“I loved the missions as a child so Mother bought several books on them. This was the first mission so I studied it s extensively as I could. Every time I think of those priests who came to evangelize- it just amazes me what a wonderful thing that was.”
“Wonderful! Willow, they enslaved those Indians- Native Americans- whatever. They were cruel and forced Christianity on them. How can that be wonderful?”
“I didn’t say,” she began patiently, “That how they did it was wonderful. I think that they did do it was. They came in and did what they thought was right. Their hearts were in the right place even if their actions weren’t the right actions.”
“The heart is deceitful and wicked and what those priests did was too.”
Impatiently, she climbed the steps. At the top, she turned to Chad and sighed. “I am not justifying each of their actions but if you read their writings, their motives were to teach the lost about Jesus. They cared about the souls of those Indians. That is what I find wonderful.”
As she described the different aspects of life in the mission, the chapel, the gardens- Chad was amazed. Every word was spoken with genuine interest and attention to detail. Several other tourists followed them listening and occasionally asking questions. When one tourist commented about how the Native Americans had been forced to live at the missions, Willow shook her head emphatically.
“The primary source documents of the time say otherwise. They only had room at the mission for about half of the natives to live here at a time and there is no evidence that they could not come and go at will between rotations.”
Later that afternoon, Willow and Chad walked along the shoreline of one of San Diego’s beaches and watched as the sun slowly sank in the sky. A photographer caught the late afternoon rays as a little girl spun gleefully in the water letting her beautiful white dress get soaked along the hemline. Just as Willow pointed her out to Chad, the woman turned and snapped the picture of Willow with one arm around Chad’s waist, her face looking up into his and her arm pointing at something that would make those looking at the picture wonder.
The woman moved slowly through the sand pulling a business card from the back pocket of her jeans. “Hi. I’m Lisa. I just had to take that picture. It’s going to be great.” She passed the business card to Chad. “Send me an email and I’ll give you a link to the picture when I have it up on my website. I won’t make it public without your permission of course.”
“Thank you! I’d love to pay you for your trouble! I’ve-” Willow began.
“No charge. You didn’t ask me to take it but I wanted you to have a way to get one if you wanted it. Have a great day.”
Without another word, the woman returned to her previous photography without another look back at the couple now reading the card. “Having a Ball- Contemporary Children’s Photography. Interesting name but she captured us doing that I guess so it fits.”
Willow could hardly contain her excitement. While they’d taken pictures of each other and the places they’d seen, having a picture of them, at the ocean, at such a beautiful time of day was something she could only have hoped for. There were very few pictures of Willow with her Mother for obvious logistical reasons and the ones that she did have were dear to her. She wanted these days with Chad captured not only for her own benefit but for the children she prayed would love them some day.
“Oh Chad. We need to remember to have people take our picture for us. That man in Santa Monica would have done it. Let’s remember to do that.”
They wandered the shore until it grew dark enough to return to the hotel and dress for dinner. Willow pulled her favorite skirt and top from the suitcase to iron but Chad shook his head. “Do you have your white one?”
“That’s my best dress!”
“This is a nice restaurant. We should dress up a little.”
“Oaks nice?”
Chad laughed. “No, not that nice but nicer than Boho casual.”
True to Willow’s personality, while Chad ate filet mignon, she enjoyed scallop and shrimp fettuccini. They talked for ages about the different foods she wanted to try and why. She couldn’t understand why he was eating the same thing he always enjoyed when there were so many new things to enjoy and appreciate.
“So,” she began changing subjects. “Where do we go after this?”
“Well, I thought about Palm Springs and golfing but I think we’ll go up to the mountains next. We can go to Death Valley and Scotty’s Castle instead of Palm Springs.”
“The mountains. What do we do in the mountains?”
This wasn’t a question he’d expected. “What do you mean?”
“Do you have something planned or are we just going to take it as it comes?”
“Well, I have the Haunted Cottage at the Saddleback Inn reserved up at Lake Arrowhead.”
“There’s a lake in the mountains?” Willow’s voice rose a little too high causing a few nearby diners to glance at her curiously.
“Yep.”
“But, I don’t understand,” she persisted. I thought the snow melted off the mountain so why isn’t the lake at the bottom of the mountain?”
Chad shrugged eating his steak with relish. “I don’t know but it isn’t. At the base of the mountain is desert according to my map. Lots of desert. Miles and miles of nothing but shrubs and sand.”
“Wow.”
LAX was a bustling homogeny of languages, cultures, and Willow found them all extremely fascinating. While Chad raced to find their rental agency and secure their car, Willow engaged in the age-old practice of people watching. The languages fascinated her most. Heavy accents made even English speaking people sound exotic and from another world.
“Come on, let’s go. I got us a cool Mitsubishi Spyder! We’ll tour the coast and let the wind whip through our-” he pause grinning. “Well, your hair anyway.”
In the car, Willow handed him an envelope with the dozens of printouts that he’d brought home from work. The envelope made him laugh. Palm trees, Route 66 signs, cacti, mountains, and surf boards covered the outside of the envelope. When had she had time to decorate an envelope for his Mapquest printouts? “You’re amazing.”
“What?”
“It’s pretty. You even made an envelope for directions ‘pretty’. Who does that?”
Willow shrugged and accepted the envelope back sans directions to the hotel. “I do. Who wants a boring gold envelope for everything?”
The sheer volume of cars that spilled from the airport in constant streams overwhelmed Willow immediately. “I thought Rockland was busy but-”
“Well, this is the airport and we came straight to it from Fairbury so we missed the traffic, but yeah, LA has amazing traffic.”
“Ok, after I merge onto CA-1N, what do I do?”
Willow read the directions carefully. “Turn left on Pico Boulevard and then-”
“That’s enough. I just needed to know if I needed the right or left lane when I got to the 1 north.”
As they pulled up to the hotel, Willow gave him an odd look. “Seriously, Hotel California? You’re joking right?”
“Cool isn’t it?”
“Unoriginal is more like it.”
“Come on Willow, the Eagles song? It’s cool!”
She shrugged and grabbed her tote. “We going in or are we going to sit out here and contemplate the beauty of the décor?”
Once they stepped into their room, Willow was in awe. She stood, suitcase handle in one hand, tote bag in the other, and stared out the window at the rolling surf. “It’s so- big! Look- it goes forever and it’s loud! I can hear it all the way up here.”
Chad grabbed her hand and tugged. “Come on, let’s go see.”
Willow found herself following him down steps, onto the sand, and stumbling as they raced through it to the water’s edge. Swiftly, she kicked off her sandals and stepped onto the cool wet sand and waited for the waves to crash over her feet. “Oooh. It’s cold!”
Her feet danced backwards. Chad, still rolling his pant legs up mocked her for being a wimp. “Come on, just a little cold water and you run!”
“I didn’t expect it to be so cold. It’s beautiful out here but that water is cold.”
“Want to learn how to find a sand crab?”
His excitement was infectious. Chad waited for the next wave, dug near the edge of the water and pulled the tiny crab from the hole where it tried to burrow deeper into the sand. Immediately, Willow began digging as a new wave crashed over her feet. “I got one! Oh its so tiny and cute. Do they get any bigger?”
“I’ve only seen them about this size but the males are a little smaller I think.”
“I can’t believe how you can actually smell the salt in the air. I always thought that was just an example of literary imagery. I never dreamed it was salty enough to smell.”
“Check out the pier.” Chad pointed to the famous Santa Monica pier with its Ferris wheel towering over the nearby shops and restaurants. “That Ferris wheel is even taller than the roller coaster.”
“I’ve always wanted to ride a Ferris wheel.”
This was surprising. Of all the things Willow might have ever wanted to do, something involving heights was the last thing he’d imagined. “I can’t believe you want to be up that high. I distinctly remember you hating the heights of the buildings in Rockland.”
“I’ve gotten used to them,” she protested. “I don’t think I ever realized how tall a Ferris wheel would have to be but I still think I want to try it.”
“Really?” If she was willing to try the Ferris wheel, maybe the roller coaster wasn’t such a pipe dream after all.
“But don’t expect me to get on that other thing. It looks fast!”
“Well, it probably is but it’s just a ride. Hundreds of people probably ride that thing every day. Maybe thousands.”
“And the first time I saw a movie,” she reminded him ruefully, “I lost my dinner because the screen spun too much. How do you think I’d do if something was actually spinning?”
“You have a point. Maybe on an empty stomach and with your eyes closed?”
Scrutiny was an understatement compared to the examination Willow gave Chad. Did he really want her to try something so crazy?” “Are you going on it?”
“Oh without a doubt.”
“Hmmph. We’ll see. I might feel more daring tomorrow. I’m hungry.”
The switch in topics took Chad several seconds to process. “Well, there are places on the pier I’m sure…”
On a nearby rock, a photographer snapped pictures of a father, mother, and their two very young children. “I’ll go ask if they can recommend something.”
Before Chad could stop her, she fought her way barefooted through the sand carrying her sandals as she went. He watched closely, seeing the woman point one way, the man point another, and the photographer finally shaking his head and agreeing with the woman. Willow’s thanks was evident even from fifty yards away and he smiled as he realized she was complimenting them on their children.
Children. Someday that would be them in the park in Fairbury and Wes would be the one taking the picture. Some tourist would ask directions to the lake and Willow would give them as though coming from her house rather than from town and send them around the long way. He’d suggest another and Wes would prove him right pointing in the same direction he’d suggested moments previously. Chad could almost hear it.
“We have a choice between Marisol which is supposed to be great Mexican food and is there on the pier or Big Dean’s Café which is on kind of a little off shoot of that road but over by the pier too. It’s all run together I guess.”
“I thought the one guy pointed that way.”
“Oh, he did,” she agreed. I guess his favorite hamburger place is down there but the father and daughter suggested something more unique to the area.”
“They’re all related? How did you find that out so fast?”
“Easy,” she grinned pulling him toward the pier and waving at the family as they passed. “I heard her call him dad as I approached them.”
“So, do you want Mexican or the café?”
Willow shrugged. “I think the café sounds loud but I guess it’s really popular. I like the idea of good Mexican food but I get the idea that the café is more economical.”
“This trip isn’t about economy but…”
“But what?”
Chad’s killer grin flashed. “Did you get directions to that burger place too?”
***
“You ready?”
Willow nodded nervously and stepped into the car. Chad helped her fasten herself in securely and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Remember, if you feel sick, don’t look or stare at the seat ahead of us or something.”
“Ok.” Her voice sounded small, even to her own ears.
The coaster made the slow ascent making Willow wonder why she’d ever thought it’d be frightening. “This is as slow as the Ferris wheel.”
“Not for long!”
The ride whipped them into a spiral before dashing in a curve that looked like it’d send them straight into the ocean. Several more dips and climbs followed before they zipped into the boarding area much more quickly than she’d ever imagined and with her stomach in tact. She climbed from the car feeling weak-kneed but fine.
“Well?”
“It was exhilarating!”
“Want to go again?” Chad wasn’t about to let an opportunity like that pass.
“Not yet. I want to make sure it doesn’t have some kind of delayed reaction. I’d hate to get sick and have it all blow back into my face. I didn’t think of that.”
“I did. I haven’t prayed so hard about anything so frivolous in years.”
Her expression was priceless. “And you went anyway?”
“Yep.”
“What,” she began curiously, “Did you pray about last time you prayed so hard for something so frivolous?”
“Lass, there’s no way I’m tellin’. Let’s play some arcade games.”
“What games?”
“Skeeball. It’s my favorite. C’mon!” Chad pulled her to the arcade place he’d spotted the previous evening. “You’ll love it.”
For hours they wandered in and out of shops near and on the pier, snacked on an amazing variety of foods, and watched street performers that ranged from pathetic to what they finally labeled, ‘almost not bad.’ For dinner, they ate at the café suggested the previous evening and finally decided that they’d made the right decision the first time. Neither of them enjoyed the noise and while the food was good, there wasn’t anything new or unique about it.
***
Waves crashed against the shore, cool breezes whipped her sweater collar against her cheek, but Willow sat calmly and marveled at the beauty of the moon across the water. Footsteps behind her made her smile. How differently footsteps sounded when heard in the sand instead of on a floor or over grass or dirt. It sounded closer to snow than she would have ever imagined.
“Willow?”
“I’m fine Chad. Just listening to the waves.”
His arms wrapped around her waist as he knelt behind her. His head rested on her shoulder while he whispered, “This isn’t Fairbury lass. It might not be safe out here.”
“I’m fine, you’re fine, we’re fine.”
“He, she, it’s fine.” He kissed her cheek laughing. “See, I can conjugate too.”
Willow’s arm stretched in front of her pointing at something he didn’t think he saw. “Look at the moonlight. You know how books talk about it being a bridge across water? It really does look like that, doesn’t it?”
“What books?” Chad had never heard anything so fanciful even from Willow.
“The Harvester for one. Ruth appears to walk across the whole lake in a bridge like that.”
“Never read it.”
Willow struggled to her feet using his shoulders as a balance. “This winter. I’ll put it on the coffee table for you.”
Like many men, Chad wasn’t given to constant declarations of his emotions and affections but his personality was one that felt things deeply and occasionally they spilled into his conversations unbidden. “Lass?”
“Hmm?” Willow hardly noticed the tone that she’d soon learn meant Chad was in one of his thoughtful moods.
“Do you have any idea how utterly happy I am?”
August
He’s home. I cannot believe he was gone for so long. The final surgery was successful. The doctor says he’ll have full use of his hand but that it’ll take work to make it strong again. He’s been target shooting with both hands and is determined to get back on track. He can’t go back to work until mid-September according to the Chief. Even then, he’s going to have to run some kind of obstacle course first. Chad called it a PAT which e says stands for Physical Agility Test. The way he said it, I can’t decide if it was a joke or if that’s what it is really called. He said he had it ‘down PAT’ so I can’t tell.
The first two weeks at home were enough to drive us crazy but now he is working on some kind of strange project. I’m not allowed to go out front and anything that needs to be done out there he does. I don’t really know what is going on but he’s happy and that’s such a nice relief that I am trying not to be frustrated with covering my eyes whenever we go somewhere or come home and not seeing my flowers.
Every month, he watches the calendar closely and I saw him looking very disappointed each time I pull out the box of monthly pads. I cannot decide, however, if the disappointment is because it’s another week ‘apart’ or if it is because it means no baby. Either way, I find it kind of cute and very funny.
I think I need to suggest some kind of party. Maybe something the first weekend of October if he has it off as kind of a ‘celebrate going back to work and all the fruits of our hard work around here’ kind of thing. We could have roasted corn and he could grill those hamburgers he loves so much. (And I can have one without hearing ‘told you’.)
I hear him calling me. It’s an amazing thing. For so long I had no one who called me to see what they were doing or to help them with something. Now I have that again but it’s even better now… now just hearing him call for me gives me such a warm feeling in my heart. That might be why I’m still writing and not running to make sure he hasn’t cut off his other hand…
“I’m coming!”
Chad’s voice boomed up the stairs, “You’re not coming fast enough woman! I am finally done!”
At the bottom of the stairs, Willow sat on the last step, crossed her arms, and looked up at him. “Make me.”
He whirled out the door, charged down the front steps, and disappeared. Seconds later, he stood in front of the screen, hose pouring water all over the porch and grinned. “Get out here or I douse you and half the house.”
“You wouldn’t!”
He reached for the screen handle but Willow jumped and raced to beat him. “You win!” She stopped at the screen and stared at the hose. “Toss the hose buster.”
Chad leaned closer letting the hose touch the wooden accents of the screen door and then flung it behind him. “Come on lass, I am finally done with your gift.”
“Gift?” She pressed her nose to the screen trying to see outside. “What you’ve been doing is a gift for me?”
“I missed your birthday.”
“You were in the hospital! Of course you missed my birthday,” she protested. Willow hadn’t even realized they’d forgotten.
“Better late than never?” He swung the door open and waited for her to step out on the porch. She glanced around the yard, into the pasture, checked the paint, and finally turned to him and shrugged.
“I don’t get it.”
“Look again. Your favorite place out here.”
Her eyes immediately sought the porch swing and almost glanced away again but something wasn’t right. She took another step and then giggled. “Oh my word. You didn’t.” A fresh set of giggles erupted as she stepped closer to the porch swing. “How on earth!”
“I thought it should be more comfortable for you on your late night snoozes.”
“But we can’t sit on it!” The swing-bed was amazing but dismay filled her heart as she imagined sitting with her legs stuck out in front of her awkwardly.
“Oh but look!” Chad hurried to the swing, pushed back two brackets, and the new portion of the swing hung free. “I only added fifteen inches and it’ll need a new pad designed so it can hang down without getting worn out from the edge but…”
“That’s amazing!” Willow lifted the ‘leaf’ of her swing, pulled the slides forward to support the new base and grinned. “I love it!” She threw her arms around him knocking him into the window.
“If I’d have known I’d get attacked again, I would have given you one of Wayne’s daisies.”
“Nope. You would have given it to me sooner…”
***
The Friday before Labor Day, Chad woke up shaking Willow excitedly. “I have a great idea!”
“What? Huh? Are you ok?” The dark sky outside her window told her it was still very early.
“I want to go somewhere. I have two more weeks of time off at least, I’ve gotten good enough at shooting to pas the PAT… let’s go somewhere!”
Willow struggled to sit up and clear her head. She pulled her hair from the braid and reached for a brush as she tried to follow Chad’s train of thought. “Go where?”
“I don’t know- somewhere different. We could go to Jamaica or hmm… maybe Hawaii since you probably don’t have a passport.”
She gave him an incredulous look. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Passport?”
“Right. Hawaii- or better yet, California! California has such a huge variety of places to see at once. They have the ocean- you’ve never seen the ocean.”
“No, I’ve never seen the ocean, that’s true.”
“And the mountains, and desert… they’re all like an hour apart. You go from ocean, to mountain to desert. It’s amazing. We could fly out, rent a car, and just tour the state. All those missions…”
Willow dropped her brush hitting her knee and causing an immediate reflex kick. “Are you serious? You want to go to California just like that? What about the animals and-”
“Can’t we get Caleb to sleep out here for two weeks? He did great while you were in the city…”
As she considered his suggestion, Willow played with the brush. Work wasn’t something you just delayed or ignored so that you could enjoy a two week whim. The idea that they could just pack up and go seemed absurd and yet… she glanced in his eyes and saw the excitement, the eagerness. He wanted to go so badly and if there was on thing Chad never did, he never asked anything of her. He gave and gave until she forgot how much of his old life he’d left behind him when he joined her on the farm.
“So how long would we be gone and when would we leave?”
“You’ll go?” Chad hadn’t dared to let himself hope but the more he thought about seeing Willow in the ocean, hiking in the mountains, or chasing lizards- he had no doubt that she’d chase lizards, he wanted to go more than anything he could imagine.
“If I can get them to come get Ditto and take away Dinner… it’d be too much to deal with all of it when I got back… I doubt I’d enjoy the trip if I knew I had that to do but I could butcher the chickens today and if they could come get the animals by Tuesday we could go on Wednesday. I think.”
“I’ll make reservations, find suitcases, and…”
Willow didn’t hear much else he said; her mind was already planning phone calls, clothing, and replanting in order to leave on time. By the time breakfast was over, she’d made a list of things to do, calls to make, and necessary items for a trip and Chad had driven to town to use the library’s internet to order tickets. He arrived home by lunch with tickets and luggage and the biggest grin she’d ever seen on his face.
“What’d you get done?”
“They’re coming for Ditto this afternoon. I guess they had a delivery later today anyway and had to drive right by. I’m glad I called early. Mr. McFarland can’t come until Tuesday afternoon and Lily said Caleb could stay out here if Ryder could stay too.” She hesitated. “I think she’s afraid that grandmother Solari will hire someone to kill me at my house and he’ll somehow be mistaken for me.”
“Well, he looks so much like you. I mean, take away six inches, forty pounds, and a head full of hair and you’d be twins- almost.”
Chad passed their itineraries across the kitchen table. Willow reached for them tentatively and then glanced up at him. “We’re really going?”
“The money is spent now, we have to go.”
“Aww… isn’t that too bad. What rotten luck.” Willow winked and passed him a sandwich.
***
Why Chad didn’t think about Willow’s reaction to air travel was something he pondered for years to come. He was used to thinking about her reactions to new and unusual things- well, unusual to her. However, maybe due to lingering effects of various drugs and anesthesia in his system, the lack of sufficient exercise, or because he’d gotten word that the trial was almost over and would probably have a verdict sometime while they were gone Chad entered the airport blissfully clueless of her trepidation and not having prepared her for the reality of security checks, baggage checks, and long waits in lines and even on the plane for simple things like take-off and after landing.
Receiving their boarding passes was a simple process that unfortunately kept the warning bells from sounding. However, the line through security solved that problem. The airport was packed and the lines were long. Bored passengers stood in their own little worlds, some talking on cell phones, others checking their watches as though the minutes would magically convert to seconds by sheer ocular suggestion. Willow took it all in wordlessly.
As they neared the checkpoint, Willow’s eyes widened as a woman was escorted aside and patted down thoroughly. “What are they doing to her! Someone needs to stop them!” Her voice was anything but quiet. The other passengers stared in amazement as she nudged Chad insisting that he go to the woman’s rescue. “You’re an officer, do something.”
Chad cringed as a TSA worker tossed a dirty look in their direction before waving his wand over the body of a teenager with more spikes in her body than a campground of tents. “Shh. Willow, it’s what they do. It’s their job. It’s for our safety now shh.”
She didn’t appreciate being shushed and dismissed so summarily and hissed, “You are telling me that in the United States of America, our citizens are hauled off and physically manhandled under the guise of safety! What are we being protected from I’d like to know!”
“What planet is she from,” the man behind them muttered annoyed.
“It’s because of 9/11, now shh.”
“Why shh!” Willow’s voice scaled higher and then froze mid sentence as she saw Chad unlace his shoes and dump them in a bin. He emptied his pockets, removed his belt, and dumped it all in a basket before sending it through the conveyor belt. From the front of is suitcase, he pulled a zip-lock bag and laid it on top before it went through the scanner.
To her horror, an alarm screamed as he stepped through a door-less doorway. Chad looked confused for a moment, patted himself down slightly and then groaned. “Oh man, I didn’t mean to bring this thing!” He sheepishly pulled his badge from his front shirt pocket and dumped it in the basket. He shrugged at the TSA officer and shrugged. “Habit.”
A second pass with wands showed him clear but the woman receiving his bag shook her head in disgust as she pulled a large tube of toothpaste, shampoo-conditioner mixed bottle, and the brand new bottle of after-shave he’d brought home but not packed. Chad’s eyes widened. “That’s not my stuff.”
“It was on your case mister.”
“It’s yours Chad,” came Willow’s helpful voice.
“But that’s not what I packed!”
“I repacked it. Those tiny things you had in there wouldn’t last you two weeks!” Her eyes grew wide as the officer removed the items from the bag and tossed them in a bin at her feet. “What are you doing! You can’t just take people’s property!”
“Um, yes I can. And shoes off.”
The stubborn look on her face made Chad nearly crazy with frustration. “Just do it Willow.” Her eyes told him no before her mouth could follow but stopped short when he added, “Trust me.” He turned to the officer who waited and said, “She’s never flown before and I didn’t think to prepare her.”
Willow heard something in Chad’s tones that made her somewhat reassured as she slipped off her favorite sandals and sat them in the bin. “Do I have to pull out my toiletries too?”
“Absolutely.”
Impatiently, Willow unzipped her suitcase, pulled out her glass jelly jars of tooth powder, deodorant powder, shampoo, and conditioner. A bar of soap came next followed by a cosmetic bag. “Do I leave the stuff in the bag or dump it in the basket?”
The woman stared slack-jawed for a moment and then tossed all of the jars, approved the soap, but removed face cleanser, toner, and moisturizer from the cosmetic basket and dumped those in the bin at her feet as well. As she stepped through the scanner, Willow found perverse pleasure in seeing that the overhead scanner didn’t make a peep but her triumph was short lived.
“Step over there please.”
Chad groaned. With all of her protests, he hadn’t been surprised but he’d hoped. Willow’s immediate retort sent new waves of nervousness through him. “Do I have the right to refuse?”
“No.”
“Am I under arrest for anything?”
The woman gave her a scathing look. “Should you be?”
“I don’t know, my grandmother is on trial for murder here in this town, maybe I’m guilty by association? Why do you want me to step aside?”
“We need to search you more closely?”
With an expression that Chad found unreadable, the woman said, “Because it’s my job to ensure that no one else gets on a plane and flies it into a building anywhere.”
“Like that could ever happen.”
The woman looked at Chad, her expression priceless. “Is she for real?”
“She’s for real. Just think of her as an Amish woman flying for the first time. She’s clueless and I wasn’t thinking.” Chad’s eyes pleaded with Willow, “Now lass, you need to go over there and let them do their jobs.” His tone became stern- the same one he used with Aiden Cox half a dozen times a week.
Willow’s mortification over being physically patted down, twice, made Chad wince inwardly. She wasn’t going to be happy about that. As if on cue, the moment they stepped away from security and started toward their gate, Willow’s questions flew. “What just happened back there?”
“They checked to make sure that we brought nothing on the plane that could be used as a weapon.”
“What about my knitting needles,” she protested. “Aren’t those a weapon?”
“I’ve never understood that. Maybe because they’re wooden and in your bag.”
“They took my scissors!”
“They were the size of Rhode Island!”
Her frustration boiled over. “So are those knitting needles if you compare sizes!”
As they waited to board their plane, Chad told of the two planes that had flown in to New York’s World Trade Center flattening the towers in the process. His voice choked as he described the plane downed at the Pentagon remembering how he’d been in his first semester at Rockland University and feeling like he’d do anything to be able to go and help the officers in D.C. or NYC. He told of United flight 93 and the courageous men who determined to avoid another major loss of life. “We don’t know for sure if they made it and prevented it or if they just convinced the men to take it down before they got there but most of us like to think they got those-” He stopped and took a deep breath. “Americans have been willing to give up a little of their rights and freedoms since then in order to prevent another chance of that happening. When someone fights it, it makes them look guilty.”
“I thought we were innocent until proven guilty in this country.”
Feeling weary, Chad nodded. “In regards to a crime, you are. If you’re accused of a specific crime, you’re innocent until proven guilty. However,” he continued as a look of triumph entered her eyes, “that doesn’t mean that when a man wants to bring something onto a plane that could be used to control the pilot, we have to let it happen. Especially if that man, or woman, happens to be protesting a bit too much. I’m pretty sure your Shakespeare commented along those lines.”
“But it’s a violation of my rights to tell me what I can and cannot take on a plane. How can they get away with that constitutionally speaking. I’d call what just happened back there ‘unlawful search and seizure.’”
“It’s not a right to ride on the plane though. That right isn’t guaranteed by the Constitution. These are private planes owned by private companies, and they can make any rules they want about who can and cannot fly on them and what they can bring.”
“Oh! I misunderstood. I thought this was some kind of law. If you chose to fly on a plane with these rules, then no, we can’t complain.”
Oh how he wanted to let her think it. The temptation to drop the subject there was so great that Chad nearly offered to bring her a coffee even if it would make her jittery. However, his conscience wouldn’t let him. “It is Federal Law.”
“Then it is still a violation of many people’s rights. The airline doesn’t have jurisdiction over their own property. They’re forced to follow these laws-”
“And what about the rights of the people on the ground? Should they be endangered because an airline decides they’ll let anyone with five hundred dollars and an ID fly on their planes?” He sighed rubbing his temple. “We won’t agree on this Willow. Not right now. How about we table it for some cold winter’s night- after I show you footage from the 9/11 attacks.”
One disaster averted, Chad was relieved when their flight was called to board. Willow followed him onto the plane, down the aisle, and to their seats. He hefted their luggage over his head and into the stowaway bins above their heads “I got you the window,” he said smiling. “I thought you might like to see the clouds up close and personal.”
“You can see the clouds?”
A derisive snort from behind them sent Chad’s blood pressure up a notch but he chose to ignore it. “Yep. My favorite is when we are just going up. You can see all the farms and roads down there. It looks just like one of your quilts.”
She waited expectantly. After what seemed like hours, the Flight Attendants rose and began their normal spiel regarding smoking, oxygen masks, and exit routes. Willow sat quietly, hanging on every word as though it meant life or death.
As the plane taxied down the runway, her hand grabbed his in a vice-like grip. He knew the exact moment her stomach lurched by the way she reached for the complimentary vomit bag in the back of the seat ahead of her. A glance at her told him she was missing the best part of the take-off.
“Look down there.”
With obvious hesitation, Willow opened one eye and glanced out the window. Chad need not have worried. One glance at the ground, the skies, and the sun glistening on the wing behind them was all she needed to overcome the momentary fear in her heart.
“We’re really going!” she whispered awed. Remembering something Marianne had shared once, she turned back to him and smiled. “Are we there yet?”
Willow turned at the sound of tires crunching in the drive. With Chad’s truck blocking her view, she couldn’t see who was there but Marianne’s voice called to her. “I’m back here, Mom!”
Marianne found her daughter-in-law hanging clothes on the line. Each item from the basket was snapped briskly with a practiced flick of the wrist before another clothes pin appeared from the apron around her waist and attached it to the line. At the sight of a row of cloth pads, she winced inwardly. Willow had a beautiful life on her little farm but that sight killed the romance of it for Marianne. Some things were just too earthy for people like her to handle.
“I brought today’s headline. I thought you’d want to see it for yourself.”
Willow reached for the paper and carried it to the back step. “Sniper Caught,” she read aloud to herself. “On Tuesday afternoon after a state-wide manhunt, the sniper who gunned down a Fairbury police officer on the courthouse steps last Wednesday was apprehended as he tried to leave the country out of O’Hare Airport in Chicago. The authorities credit having a picture at every terminal in every airport in the tri-state area with the success of catching thirty-nine year old Terrance Malcomb. ‘His passport was flawless,’ said airport security chief Dean Tomlin. ‘If we hadn’t had that picture, he’d be out of reach by now.’ Mr. Malcomb is being transported to Rockland to answer charges of the attempted murder of Chadwick Tesdall of the Fairbury police who testified against his wife’s grandmother, Lynne Solari, just minutes before he was shot. A plea bargain is expected.”
She looked up at her mother-in-law. “What does it all mean? I’ve never understood plea bargains.”
“He’ll get a lesser sentence for shooting Chad by testifying against Lynne Solari. With his testimony- especially if she’s the one who paid him to do it, there’s no way they won’t find her guilty.”
“So basically, he gets fewer spankings if he tattles.”
“Well,” Marianne conceded laughing, “that’s one way to put it.”
“Why can’t they just make him talk like they said they would me? Why-”
“The fifth amendment doesn’t allow it. Besides, he’s going to jail anyway. The only incentive they can give him is less time so they do it to ensure that they get the person behind it all.” Even as she spoke, Marianne knew it was fruitless. There was no way that Willow would understand the idea of a reduced sentence for cooperation. Right was right, wrong was wrong, and there was no gray area.
“But this is good, right? I mean, no one is trying to kill him or me or any of us anymore?”
“As far as we know.”
Willow squealed, hugged Marianne, and raced inside calling, “I’ve got to call Chad. Maybe I can come in to see him now.”
Marianne shook her head and reached for another shirt in the basket. She shook it out, attached it to the line, and reached for another. It was a satisfying feeling. The breeze flapped half-dry things around her as she worked and by the time Willow raced outside carrying her purse and calling someone on her phone, Marianne had finished the job. It felt good. It felt very good.
“Mom, can you take me to him? Chad says I can come. They’re going to let him come home tomorrow anyway so I’m staying over night if I can get Ryder to come take care of things.”
“Get your helper out here. I’ll go pack you a bag. You’ll need more than a purse to stay overnight, silly.”
***
Willow asked for directions to Chad’s room two hours later. The nurse at the station eyed her cautiously and then nodded. “You must be Willow. He’s in room 204. I cannot tell you how glad we are that you’re here.”
“Why?”
“Because your husband is driving us all nuts. He’s just cranky enough to make us want to kill him and charming enough to make it impossible. How do you live with that man?”
She shrugged, asked for help in finding 204 again, and this time the nurse understood her and pointed to the correct corridor. “On the right. Two doors down.”
The curtain was drawn around Chad’s bed and some woman on TV interviewed a college student caught writing papers for half the campus at an Oregon university. “Chad?”
“Oh you’re finally here. I thought Mom must have decided to push the car here.”
“The nurse was right.”
“How’s that?”
Willow’s grin was wicked. “You are grumpy.”
“I’ve hardly seen you for a whole week. What do you expect?”
Willow’s eyes filled with tears of relief. “It’s so good to see you. It’s been-” she hesitated. “Lonely.”
“Aww lass, I missed you too. We’ll be home tomorrow. It’s going to be back to normal.” Chad’s eyes drooped sleepily. “I think they’ve got me on some kind of sleeping meds. I keep falling asleep.”
“Rest Chad. I’ll go find something to eat. I skipped lunch getting ready to come here.” She didn’t want to go. The idea of leaving him just as she got there bothered her but he obviously needed sleep.
“Just don’t stay away too long. You smell like home. I want to go home.”
Outside the door, Willow leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. Chad looked terrible. His normally tan skin tone looked jaundiced and pale. The strength in his voice was gone and she could see he pain in his eyes. It was time to get him home in good air with good food and uninterrupted sleep. Willow remembered how little she’d slept during her hospital stay.
“Mrs. Tesdall? Willow?”
She forced her eyelids upward and met the kindest eyes she’d ever seen. “Yes?”
“I’m Dr. Shaiver. I’m very glad to see you here. We tried to get Chad to let you come but he didn’t think it was wise.”
“I think he’s crazy. My grandmother isn’t out to kill me. I’m not a threat but Chad sees it differently.”
“Well, having you here will probably help his recovery immensely. He’s been quite down.” The doctor’s smile was just as sympathetic as his eyes were kind.
“Well, I think once I get him home tomorrow, he’ll do better.”
“I’m afraid not.” Regret filled Dr. Shaiver’s voice. ”I just got the x-rays back. His lungs are trying to fill with fluid and his hand has a displaced bone. We’re not sure how that happened but it has to be corrected.”
Something in the doctor’s tone bothered Willow. “Can you tell me if I should be concerned about him? Is he going to be all right?”
“He’s not doing as well as I hoped for. I want to blame it on his checking himself out early but I think that just set him back a bit. I don’t think it actually caused him any further injury.” He rested his hand on her arm comfortingly. “I truly think it would be best if you could stay. His concern for you and how much he misses you is impeding his progress, without a doubt.”
“Then I’ll stay.”
Dr. Shaiver turned to answer a page and then did an abrupt about face. “That man sure loves you.”
***
Willow spent the next hour arranging for Ryder and Caleb to take over the farm while she was gone. Todd Blankenship agreed to stay there to keep Portia company and learn how to do things to help out the boys as well as shuttle Willow back and forth every couple of days. By the time Chad awoke, it was all arranged.
“So, he wakes.”
“Oh lass, I thought I’d dreamed it. I’m so glad you’re here.”
The doctor’s last words filled her mind once again. An unfamiliar warmth flooded her heart as she remembered the hours he’d sat with her in the same hospital, the work he’d done on his few free hours in order to ensure her crops weren’t wasted, and the way he’d come back, against her wishes, in order to be a friend to someone who had been so ungrateful as to push him away. It was amazing and terrifying all in one. The pressure in her chest felt wonderfully smothering. She couldn’t breathe but was so happy, she truly didn’t care. Chad loved her.
Tears spilled from her eyes as emotion overflowed and spilled onto her cheeks. An overwhelming sense of love and affection welled inside her as she realized that he’d loved her long before he knew or admitted it to himself. Willow brushed away silly tears as the realization struck her that she too loved her husband just as any husband should be loved by the one whom they promise to cherish for the rest of their lives.
“I’m in love,” she whispered. “Wow.”
***
Chad stirred. A weight on his uninjured hand felt odd and he started to struggle but the weight moved. One eye crept open and then a smile broke over his face. The bed rail was down, a stool was pushed up next to the bed, and Willow half laid over him holding his hand in both of hers as she slept.
Clumsily, he stroked her hair with his bandaged hand. He slowly shifted to lay on his ‘good’ side and watched her face as she slept. The stirring of her hair gave him occasional whiffs of lavender making him want home more than ever. The past week had been packed with surgeries, nurses interruptions, a constant flow of visitors, and he was exhausted from all of it. All he wanted was to go home, curl up in his own bed, and sleep for a month.
Willow looked so young to him. How was it that someone so confident, so wise, could look like a child when she slept? Every second that passed felt like a pound lifted from him just having her there. Nothing would help him more than having Willow looking out for him.
“Hey,” he whispered as one eye opened. “I fell asleep on you. I’m sorry.”
“You needed your rest.” A sudden rush of emotion overwhelmed her and tears flowed again.
“Hey, hey, shh… what’s wrong lass?”
Willow tried to fight back the tears but every attempt was swallowed by a fresh burst of weeping. Her shoulders shook, deep wracking sobs erupted sending Chad into a confused panic and his attempts to soothe her only made it worse. “I’m sorry- I don’t know-”
“Shh… it’s ok. It’s going to be fine.”
“I missed you-” her words were cut off by yet another round of weeping. She hadn’t cried so thoroughly since the full impact of her mother’s death hit her last summer but these were good tears. Tears of joy, relief, and love for someone infinitely beloved had now replaced the deep grief that came with the loss of the only other person she’d ever truly loved.
Not knowing what else to say, Chad soothed her and whispered, “Just cry it out Willow. You’ll feel better. I’m so sorry-”
“No, I’m not sad!” The sobs made her words sound ludicrous and she snorted a chuckle before collapsing once more. Tears soaked the bed, his hand, and her arm until Chad reached for a Kleenex and stuffed it under the mound of hair that now hid her face from him.
“Aww lass, what is it?”
Several minutes passed. A nurse passing by stepped in to see what was wrong but Chad sent her out without a word. Still, the torrent of tears continued unabated until she finally sobbed all of the unfamiliar and overpowering emotions into manageable feelings.
Finally she held her hand out for a fresh wad of Kleenex and raised her head. “I’m sorry. How silly of me.”
“Are you ok?” Chad’s hand cupped her face tenderly and tried to read some reason for her meltdown in her expression.
“I was just so happy to see you again. I missed you more than I realized.” She kissed his hand absently as she spoke and then blushed feeling foolish.
“I don’t understand-”
“I’m beginning to- finally,” she admitted more to herself than Chad.
“Care to share?”
Willow smiled into Chad’s eyes, kissed him, and then whispered, “I love you.”
Ok, so most authors like to hear their books are hitting the news stands but I’ll take what I can get! I shipped my first baby to its first new home today and I even took pictures for posterity.
There you have it!
I’m off to go buy the 80 copies that I need so that others can get their books ASAP! If you’ve ordered, they’re on their way!
As Chad climbed carefully and slowly from his truck, Willow skipped down the steps, forgetful of the camisole and shorts that while cool and comfortable, covered little. He watched her hurry toward him and laughed as she raced to hug him. When she realized how little she wore, she’d be mortified.
Unexpectedly, she flung herself into his arms kissing his cheek. “I missed you! I can’t believe how much I missed you. I mope-” His sharp intake of breath and the way he clung to her stopped her mid-thought. “What?”
“Just help me inside lass. I’ve got quite a story to tell you but I need some water and my head is feeling fuzzy.”
“Chad! You’re really-” His wince as she wrapped her arm around his back stopped her. “Is there anywhere I can touch you?” The moon moved from behind a cloud lighting Chad’s face. “What happened to you! Your mother just said that you’d been detained.”
“That’s all I let her say. Get me inside and ignore my pain willya.”
Willow brought him pillows, a glass of water, and remembering how much he liked Sprite when he was sick, she hurried out to the summer kitchen where she’d stashed a few cans the last time she’d been at the store. He laughed as she chipped ice off the ice box block and brought him a glass of icy cold Sprite.
“I knew I’d be better off at home. In the truck, there’s a plastic bag on the floorboard. I need the bottle in it please.” To Willow’s eyes, he looked horrible as he clenched his hand tightly around the end of a pillow as though holding on for dear life.
Willow found the bag and a stack of discharge papers that looked similar to the ones she’d brought home from the hospital the previous summer. With both in hand, she hurried inside opening the bottle of pain killers as she did. She read the instructions carefully and then handed him one tablet. “It says take with water.”
Already, Chad missed the PCA and his steady supply of morphine as needed. Regardless of his careful attempts to use it as little as humanly possible, it had kept the worst of the pain at bay. He swallowed his pill and dutifully drank the water she shoved at him before sinking back into the pillows exhausted.
“I really didn’t think it’d be that hard to drive home. The traffic wasn’t anything to speak of, the highway was reasonably empty- I don’t know why I’m so beat.”
Willow bit her lip. She wanted to demand that he tell her what happened and why his face held several stitches, one close to the corner of his eye. However, the memory of his wince as she’d hugged him, the pain etched in his face, and the bandaged hand that had a tinge of fresh blood near the thumb stopped her. She’d have to learn a little patience.
“Where are the questions, lass? I’ve been waiting for you to pounce.”
“I thought you might like to rest. You’ll tell me when you’re ready. I don’t want to be a pest or worse, that dripping wife of Proverbs.”
He found her hand with his good one, squeezing it gently and then reaching carefully to pull her closer to him. “Ahh Willow, but that’s what I love about you. Yes, you drive me crazy sometimes but I love that you’re just you. What you see is what you get. There’s no guessing if you’re seething inside or miserable, because you let it all out and I like that.”
“Even when I get stubborn and refuse to do things everyone else’s way just because it’s everyone else’s way? I seem to remember school being an issue, wedding choices being problems, and-”
“Even then. It’s what makes you, you. You could be less obstinate about things perhaps, I won’t complain about that, but I’d miss your input if you quit giving it- or demanding it.” He winked at her over the top of her head.
“So,” Willow began now unable to contain her curiosity any longer. “Just what happened?”
“Well, first of all, I know who told that reporter about Steve Solari.”
“Robert Beiler? Who?”
Chad nodded toying with Willow’s braid as he talked and praying that the horrible throbbing in his hand would go away. “Lynne Solari herself. Robert mentioned something about an ME with the corner’s office who kept an eye out for certain names and your mom’s was one. So, they did some digging, found the ME and from what we can put together, Lynne knew about the rape before Steve. She either didn’t tell Steve Jr. what she knew or they made the plan together for him to go to his father and ‘hide’ it from Lynne.” He wondered if he should add the latest information he’d heard from the A.D.A. “There is an evidence trail that is inching in the direction of Lynne being the one to order the hit on Steve Jr.”
“She killed her own son?”
“Not right away of course, but when he just got worse and worse, it is interesting that he dies in a knife fight when Steve Jr. had never owned any kind of weapon. He liked his fists.”
The expression on Willow’s face was unreadable. He watched the emotions and thoughts flit through her eyes, glide over her cheeks, and settle around her lips in an ambiguous twist. “He certainly used them on Mother.”
“I thought I read about bruising so I assumed…”
“I saw the pictures she took of herself. They’re horrible.”
Chad was at an absolute loss for words. No where in Kari’s journals had there ever been a mention of pictures. “I didn’t know about the pictures.”
“I saw them once as a child. They’re in the attic in a box of papers in a sealed envelope. I was looking for some kind of picture of grandparents or aunts and uncles- I wanted to know more and Mother had no more to share so I spent an afternoon when she was in town going through all of the boxes I could find.”
“What did you find?”
Sadness laced her voice. “Those pictures. Once I found them, I put them away and quit looking. If that was the kind of thing I was going to find, I didn’t want to know. I understood why she’d chosen our life and I think that was the day I fully embraced it for myself.” She took a deep breath exhaling slowly. “I’d always loved our life but seeing that made me reject the outside world much as Mother already had.”
“But you didn’t- You asked us to come back and on that very first day. How-”
Her hand crept up by her neck where he toyed with her braid and curled it around his fingers. “I don’t really know. I just saw you three going out the door and felt so terribly alone. You were all so nice to me. It seemed like maybe the police were safe.” A sob caught in her throat. “In just a brief few seconds, I imagined day after day without hearing another person’s voice, without ever getting a hug or laughing with someone, and I panicked.”
“Aww lass. Make a guy feel guilty why don’t you. When I think how I resented you…”
“Well, to be a deliberate pest then, what happened to you. I’m trying to be patient but if you could see yourself-”
“I have. I look like Frankenstein.” He tried to remember the days that blurred together in his mind. “Wednesday at around two o’clock they let me out. You’d rang just as I left the building. When I got away from reporters, I pulled out my phone and just at that instant, a bullet came from across the street, went through the phone, and then through me.”
“So you fell and scraped yourself up?” Her face was turned to Chad’s looking at the scratches and stitches that made him look like he’d been attacked by a weed-whacker.
“No, the phone. It shattered on impact sending melting pieces of plastic flying into my hand, my face, my neck…”
She glanced at his hand concern etched in her features. “How bad is your hand?”
“I’ll be learning to shoot with my left hand most likely. I’ve got at least one or two more surgeries on it coming.”
“Why did they let you come home if they have to do more work.”
Chad had the grace to blush. “Actually, they didn’t. I checked myself out AMA.”
“AMA?”
“Against medical advice. I needed to get home.” He felt her stiffen.
“Wait- they didn’t want you to leave?”
“No. I’ve got instructions for getting to a hospital and when. I’ll be fine but I just really needed to see you and make sure you knew I was ok.”
She struggled from his grasp and climbed the stairs without any kind of response. In the bathroom, she washed and dried her face, all the while praying for a balance between her desire to blast him and respect for his right to make his own decisions. She needed to hurry back down and have the right thing to say… she looked at herself n the mirror and groaned. She’d go back down after she found something to cover herself with.
Chad laughed as she came back down the stairs wearing a summer robe and trying not to look as thoroughly embarrassed as she was. ”I wondered how long it’d take you to figure it out.”
She started to take a seat on the other couch so he could stretch out but he motioned her back to him. “Come on, I’ve been gone forever.” Once she curled against him again he whispered, “And you didn’t need to put that on. You looked just fine-”
“I bet I did. I’ll put it back on next time I walk to town.”
“Over my dead body.”
The conversation switched subjects with that line. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Instinctively, he knew what she referred to and followed the change easily. “I had to get back to you lass. I didn’t want you to worry.”
“And you think I’m not going to worry about you as you lay here when you need medical attention that I can’t give you? What happens if something goes wrong? I don’t know how to drive. It’s a fifteen minute round trip- minimum, if I call an ambulance, and who knows if the clinic can help you or if you’ll need a rush trip to Rockland. I can’t believe you did this to me!”
A weak but definite edge of anger entered Chad’s tone. “To you? I did this for you. I imagined you here-”
Frustrated, she jumped up and spun to face him. “You want to do something for me? Fine. Get back to the hospital until they think it’s safe for you to leave.” Tears filled her eyes. “I cannot lose you. I’m not ready for that. I can’t believe you’d do that to me.”
“Willow-”
“This is horrible. You came home and I was so excited to see you. My stomach got all floppy on me and I felt so happy and now I’m just sick. You’re going to get yourself killed. You’re going to let her win!”
“Willow,” Chad began again. “If I went back, you’d have to stay here. You can’t go near Rockland until the trial is over.”
This was it. She needed to make her point and then drop it but her natural desire for her own way made her fight for the exact words that would make him listen to her and return to the hospital. “Chad, you said you wanted me to tell you what I think so here’s what I think. I think that for someone who has harped on how selfish I am about stuff, you’ve topped it all. I stayed in that hospital, against my own preference, I went to those stupid physical therapy sessions because you insisted they were best for me. I think it’s time you listen to your own advice and get back where you kept me and for a much less serious injury.”
“Um lass?” Chad’s voice sounded weak and confused.
“What?” She instantly regretted the snap in her response.
“Can you call Todd and get him to come back? I think you’re right and I’d almost kill for more morphine right now.”
“Under on condition.”
“Anything.”
She retrieved her phone before replying, “You call me this time?”
“I’ll call. I didn’t want you to hear the pages for doctors…” It was as though knowing he was returning took all of his remaining strength.
Willow punched the numbers he gave her and waited for Todd to answer. “Hey, this is Willow. I have a husband who is ready to return to the hospital.”
“I thought you would. I’m parked at the end of the driveway. I’ll be right there.” The laughter in Todd’s voice made her smile as she snapped the phone shut.
“He’s coming up the drive as we speak.”
Chad grinned wanly. “Come here then…”
Upon further information regarding Chad’s accident, I now know my original idea of his injuries was much more accurate than I gave myself credit for.
Therefore, I’ll be going back and adding in much more serious injuries to his hand, face, and arm as well as a broken rib. Furthermore, he stayed an extra night so both chapters 115 and 116 will have to reflect that. I’m just making notations in the manuscript at this time and will add that info when it comes time to edit.
Sorry about the confusion but I erred on the side of underestimating damage rather than overestimating and I think it was best but now that I know what I know, it’s time to make it more accurate.
The first witness in the trial was Robert Beiler of the Rockland Chronicle. Chad felt his hands tighten into fists as the man took the stand, swore to tell the truth, and took his seat. He described his meeting with Steven Solari as an awkward tense riddled conversation where he’d been drilled for information. “I couldn’t tell where I’d learned about who Miss Finley’s-” he glanced in Chad’s direction. “I mean Mrs. Tesdall’s father was. I thought he’d see right through me but he seemed satisfied.”
“And why,” the prosecutor continued, “couldn’t you tell him?”
“Because Mrs. Solari told me I couldn’t. She gave me the information on Willow Finley.”
Robert went on to describe a meeting with Lynn Solari where the woman gave all the information necessary to write his article. “She’d discovered Willow’s existence through some contact with the ME’s office. Finley was a name she had flagged.”
“Are you saying that Lynne Solari paid someone in the coroner’s office to let her know if anyone by the name of Finley came through?”
“That’s what she said. The way she said it implied that Finley was one of many names but-”
“Objection, assuming facts not in evidence.” The defense attorney rarely spoke. He seemed to hardly pay attention much less bother to object to any line of questioning.
“Can you tell us what she said exactly?”
“No,” Robert began, “But almost. She said, ‘I have a contact at the ME’s office who lets me know when someone comes through that I am interested in. I never expected to hear Finley but she came through in May.’ It wasn’t those exact words in that order but really close to them and the exact meaning.”
Chad was dumbstruck. Of all the scenarios he’d run through his mind, Lynne wasn’t even in the running. She’d left them with the impression that she knew nothing of Steve’s payoff or Kari Finley at all. This testimony implied otherwise. He missed the final questions as his mind whirled with possibilities.
“I call Officer Chadwick Tesdall to the stand.”
The first questions were simple. His name, occupation, how he met Willow, and finally when he’d met Lynne Solari. Chad felt the phone vibrate in his pocket but he ignored it as he answered the question. “That is correct. She’d disabled her own car in order to have an excuse to come to the house.”
The defense attorney in a bored tone said, “Objection, conjecture.”
“Is it conjecture if she admitted it to us?” Chad was clearly stating the information rather than asking his question.
He slipped his hand into his pocket and glanced at the name on the screen. Willow. Thankful they hadn’t confiscated phones, he slipped it back in and answered the next question. “She said it was because she’d seen the article in the paper.”
Agonizingly slowly, he answered all of the prosecutor’s questions, endured a rigorous cross-examination, and then sighed in relief as he was excused. His phone vibrated again just as a crowd of reporters surrounded him and he impatiently shoved it back into his pocket as he hurried down the courthouse steps. The last thing he wanted to do is let Willow hear the questions fired at him one after another.
The next few minutes were a blur. The A.D.A. left the building seconds after Chad sending the flock of reporters away from him. He reached for his cell phone to call his wife and watched it shatter as a bullet ripped through it before tearing through is body. Fire. His hand felt as though it was on fire. As he fought waves of nausea from the pain, he stared at the pieces of his phone and then crumpled to the steps.
People screamed. The A.D.A. dove for cover and whipped out her cell phone to call for help while a court officer raced to Chad’s assistance. Pandemonium reigned but Chad was unaware of his surroundings. The burning in his chest and hand made it impossible to think or concentrate. He felt sweat trickle down his face in several places and wiped it away. His hand, streaked with blood, told him that his face was cut- probably in several places.
By the time the ambulance arrived, the entire courthouse was cordoned off and police were crawling everywhere. As the paramedics loaded him into the ambulance, Chad insisted on speaking to the A.D.A. “Tell her… do not call my wife.”
“Man, she’s gonna-”
“Do not call Willow. We have a good lawyer. I’ll use her.”
***
“Mr. Tesdall?” The face above Chad’s head swayed drunkenly.
“Have you been drinking sir?” Chad’s voice sounded strange to his own ears.
“No, but you’ve been medicated.”
He struggled to sit up and then sank back against the pillows. “I was shot. I can’t believe I was shot. I remember now.”
“It was a through and through. Somehow it missed your heart, and arteries but it did pierce the lungs, break a rib, and your hand took the full impact of the phone. I’ve never seen one like it.”
As the doctor explained his injuries, Chad struggled to remember something he needed to ask. “Did anyone call my wife?”
“I knew the EMT got it wrong. He said you refused.”
“I did. So no one called?”
The doctor nodded eyeing Chad curiously. “Mind telling me why you don’t want her to know? You can’t hide an injury like this.”
“I have an unusual wife. She’d rather hear it from me. Just trust me on that. I need to speak to my parents immediately. If they see it on the news they’ll call and-”
The longer Chad spoke, the more clear his thinking became. “Man what do you have me on?”
“Your PCA has morphine if you need a boost.”
“I have to avoid it as much as possible. I need to be able to drive tomorrow.”
“Well, you’re not going anywhere tomorrow. The surgeon has more work to do on that hand and we can’t risk infection or pneumonia. The EMT managed to prevent a pneum- um collapsed lung.”
Chad wanted to ask more questions but drowsiness overtook him and before he could speak, he slept.
***
The pain was excruciating. He stared at the little button that could help alleviate some of the misery he was in and hesitated. Which was better- keeping off the medication so he could drive sooner or ensuring that he stayed on top of it long enough to heal enough to be able to drive in the first place. For the first time, Chad was grateful that they’d talked him out of the manual transmission. With his throbbing bandaged hand, there was no way he’d be able to operate a gearshift.
A nurse entered the room. “So, we’re awake. Time for some pain medication?”
“I can’t decide which is better, less so its out of my system sooner, or more so that I don’t get overwhelmed.”
“Use the PCA. You can wait until you think it’ll override you but if your body has to fight pain and fight infection, it’ll take you longer to heal.”
With the next level of pain, Chad pushed the button. Twice. The clock said two-thirty. In seven hours his parents would arrive and by then, perhaps he’d feel better. He had to get sleep to heal. The phone next to his bed taunted him. She’d answer even at this time of night and though Willow wouldn’t worry, she would be confused.
He slowly awoke to the sounds of whispering and the feeling of losing all blood flow to his arm. “He’s been sleeping since I got on shift,” a masculine voice whispered. “The chart says he’s checking himself out after his next surgery even if it is AMA.”
“AMA?” The voice belonged to his mother.
“Against medical advice.”
“Probably has something to do with why he didn’t want us to call Willow, Marianne.” Pop always knew how his mind worked even if he didn’t understand why it worked that way.
A few minutes later, the sound of retreating footsteps and the continued whispers of his parents jarred him back to consciousness. “Is he worried about her safety do you think?”
Pop’s voice sounded strained as he tried to reassure his mom. “It’s possible. Maybe he doesn’t want to lead someone out there but I’d think it’d be less safe with her out there alone.”
“She has a gun and she did take down the last person who tried to hurt her…”
Chad fought to speak, his eyes still unwilling to open. “She’ll want to come in if she knows. Coming in is a sure way to stress her out. She isn’t handling this trial very well. I tried to get her to come and stay at the hotel- make it fun, you know? She didn’t want to have anything to do with it.”
“But when you don’t call son-”
“Mom, she’ll just think my battery died or something. She’ll wonder, but she won’t really worry. I could be wrong but I don’t think so. And Dad’s right, we need to keep her out of town. If that shot was a trap to lure her into town by someone who doesn’t know where we live, I don’t want to risk it.”
Marianne’s eyes widened. “Do you really think that’s even possible?”
“Why aim for my heart instead of my head? I don’t understand it unless he just wanted to take me out of testifying for now or if it was all bait.”
“Maybe it wasn’t either of those. Maybe it was a warning to others who are on the witness list.”
Christopher’s point was something Chad hadn’t considered. “It’s possible. I really don’t know. I don’t want her out there alone but I think I trust her more to take care of herself out there than I trust her ability to do it in town.”
“So you’re going to go home tomorrow regardless of how you feel?”
“After the surgery, once the anesthesia and meds are out of my system-”
“But what about getting well!” Marianne’s voice grew louder with each word.
“I’ll go to the clinic in Fairbury at the first sign of anything off. They have a few overnight rooms even. I have to get home.”
“You could call. Tell her the trial is taking more from you than you expected. Tell her your phone isn’t working but you’ll be home tomorrow and everything will be just fine.”
“I’m not going to lie mom.”
“Chad,” Marianne protested quickly, “I didn’t mean for you to lie. All of that is true- it’s just ambiguous enough to keep her from worrying and to keep you in this bed.”
“Your mother has a point. Resting that lung-” The doctor stopped himself abruptly as Chad struggled to sit upright.
“If I called, I’d tell her everything. But if you called-”
“What do you want me to say?”
***
Thursday afternoon, a detective arrived to take his statement regarding the shooting. “Officer Tesdall?”
Chad turned and glanced up at the detective expectantly. “Yes?”
“I’m detective Haunsel with the Rockland PD. I have some questions if you’re up to it.”
“I now understand, in a way I never could before, why victims and witnesses are so unreliable. I didn’t see it coming. I can only imagine that you found through the trajectory where the sniper was…”
“We found it. We found the guy on video…” The detective pulled out glossy eight by ten print outs of the building across the street, the fourth floor, and almost a full shot of a man’s face. “Do any of these look familiar to you?”
Carefully, Chad examined each one clearly. Finally, he shoved them across his legs. “I don’t trust my memory on this. He looks familiar but I could have seen him or someone that resembles him, anywhere.” A thought occurred to him. “Have you checked cameras from inside the courthouse? Was he in the courtroom?”
“They’re still going those tapes. Can you tell us why he chose you?”
“I can only assume that it has something to do with my testimony… maybe he thought I was coming back after the recess but I wasn’t. I was excused.”
Detective Haunsel nodded thoughtfully. “What does the doctor say?”
“Gonna have to learn to shoot with my other hand. Even if they get this thing fully functional,” Chad waved his bandaged hand impatiently, “they say the muscles won’t be completely reliable. It’ll always be a little stiff.”
“Ouch. Tough luck… at least you live in Fairbury. You probably haven’t drawn your gun since you’ve worked there.”
Chad hated the implication that work in Fairbury wasn’t real. “I want to know that the next time a stalker breaks into my house to terrorize my wife, I’ll be able to pull the trigger before he does. Sorry if that ruins your Mayberry ideal of Fairbury but between the Plagiarist Killer and the Solari influence, we’ve had more crime in Fairbury in the past two years than the town has had in the past fifty. Rockland is encroaching and I want to be able to do my part to push it back. We don’t want your crime.”
***
Marianne watched as they wheeled her son into surgery and wondered just how successful it would be. Christopher jogged up to her side. “Sorry I’m late. What’s going on?”
“They just wheeled him in. The surgeon talked to me while they were taking him in. He’s confident it’ll be successful but the degree of success is what is in question.”
Christopher sank into a nearby chair. “My son- all he ever wanted to do was be a cop and now-”
Chad’s mother wrapped her arms around her husband and hushed him. “He’ll shoot with his other hand. He’ll be fine.”
“I think it just hit me. My son was shot. A man took careful aim and shot him and if Chad hadn’t moved at just the right moment, he probably would be dead.”
***
“So how long until everything is out of my system? How soon before I am chemically safe to drive?”
Sunday morning, Chad bombarded the doctor with questions as he inspected Chad’s sutures, chart, and checked the wound in Chad’s chest. He’d fought the use of the PCA as much as possible but the throbbing had kept him awake most of the night until he’d given in and allowed himself a few hours of pain relief. His goal was to leave that night.
“You’re determined to leave tonight then?”
Chad nodded. “I have to get home. I know I’ll have to sign but I need to get home.”
The doctor called the nurse to rewrap Chad’s hand and said goodbye. “I’ll leave care instructions with the nurses. Try to stay as long as possible. The longer you’re here, the more likely a problem happens here than at home.” He hesitated. “Will you promise me one thing?”
“What?”
“If you relapse at all the rest of today, will you please reconsider and stay another night?”
Chad nodded. “I’m not trying to get myself killed-” he winked at his mother. “Contrary to popular belief.”
With the doctor gone, Chad tried to apologize for worrying his mother but he didn’t get far. “I understand Chaddie. I do. I want to help but I couldn’t live with myself if-”
“It’s ok mom. Really. Can you do something for me though?” He knew the only way his mother would quit worrying was if she had a way to help him.
“I’d need clothes whether I left right now or next week. Can you bring me sweats and a buttoned down shirt?”
“That’s kind of a strange combination, son.”
Chad grinned. “I’m a fashion mystery. Ok, so maybe I just want something easy to get on and off again.”
***
At five o’clock, Todd arrived with a bag of clothes from Chad’s mother. “Hey man, how are you feeling?”
“Miserable but I’ll do.”
“You sure you want to leave?”
Groaning, Chad made a slicing motion across his neck. “Not you too…”
“I had to ask! Your mom wouldn’t give me these clothes until I promised to follow you home. I won’t come up to the house or anything but I will follow to the drive.”
“Thanks. I thought about asking but decided I was being paranoid. Everyone around here seems to be operating under the delusion that I want to leave.” Chad’s voice sounded weary.
“Did you take some acetaminophen at four?”
“Four-thirty. I’ll pull over at the rest stop for a refill or just take them a bit early.”
Todd nodded and pulled out the latest Grisham novel. “I’ll read. You sleep.”
“What, no Hartfield? I’m crushed.”
“I’ve read ‘em all.”
Chad grinned and tried to roll onto his side. “Seven-thirty. No later.”
Todd acted as a guard for the next two and a half hours. The nurses came in to check him, offer him medication, and bring dinner but Todd shooed them back out insisting that they would be responsible for Chad’s relapse if they didn’t let him sleep. The doctor arrived just as Todd shook Chad awake.
“It’s time to get up, man. Gotta get on the road.”
He tried to respond but the doctor interrupted. “Still determined to leave?”
“Have to. I’m sorry.”
“Let’s check your temperature.” Ignoring the nurse who stood ready to do her job, the doctor checked all vital signs, inspected Chad’s wounds, and helped Chad out of bed watching him walk around the room. “Well, I’d be more comfortable with another night or three but as long as you keep a close eye on the wounds and your temperature, unofficially speaking, you should be good. I can’t release you though. Liability and all.”
“I understand. Give me the forms or whatever and let’s get this show on the road.”
It took Chad longer to dress to leave the hospital than he’d ever spent getting ready for anything. As much as he despised flip-flops, he was grateful that his mother had considered the easiest thing to put on his feet and sent them. Todd drove Chad to his truck and they swiftly left the city, each keeping an eye out for anyone who might be following, and drove toward Fairbury.
The temptation to speed had rarely been stronger. By the time he was out of the city and onto the highway, Chad was ready to lie back down and go to sleep. As he passed the rest stop, Chad struggled to open the packet of Tylenol and failed. He pulled over, wrenched it open wincing at the sharp pain it send through his chest, coughed, and downed the pills before Todd could reach his side.
“You ok, man?” Todd had his door open before he could nod.
“I’m fine! I just couldn’t get the packet open without pulling over.”
“Well, if you hadn’t had your phone shot into you, you could have called.”
Chad groaned. “Oh man, I’m going to need a new phone.”
“I’ll take care of it. Just get me your info and I’ll go in. I’ll come out on Monday with it. You can’t leave the house again before then anyway.”
By the time thy entered Fairbury, Chad was shaking with exhaustion. Each mile from Fairbury to home seemed like ten. He flashed his lights at Todd just before he turned into the driveway and then let the truck coast down the first part of the drive until it reached the climb up into the yard.
Willow sat in the porch swing as she did on so many nights. The familiarity of her trysts with the Lord in the dark made his heart ache. Home. He was finally home and his wife was just fine.
The trees swayed in the breeze as the morning crawled by. Willow leaned against her favorite tree, held her fishing pole, and wished Chad was with her. She had work to do but was so distracted that she’d given up after uprooting too many undersized plants instead of weeds. Instead, she’d grabbed her tackle box, her fishing pole, bucket, lunch, and took off for her favorite fishing spot.
She flipped open her cell phone. Nine forty-five. Court was in session. Willow tried to remember how to send a text message but her unsettled mind made her fumble until she gave up in disgust. Lynne Solari faced the death penalty and Chad’s testimony would likely be several nails in that coffin. She’d always believed in capital punishment but the idea of putting someone to death and ending their chance at salvation was repugnant to her.
The look on Chad’s face when she’d said it still hovered in her memory. “Willow, she has had forty or fifty years of opportunities. It isn’t like we killed her before she had a chance to consider her actions. We don’t deserve a chance at salvation- we’re given one and most of us throw it away.” His words made sense, she understood them, but her heart constricted at the idea that man killed to avenge murder and in the process, stripped who knew how many years of opportunities to hear and learn.
The fish weren’t biting to her immense relief. Willow didn’t really want to catch any but at least fishing absolved some of the guilt of a wasted day. She flipped open the phone and forced herself to concentrate on how to send a message. Finally, she sent two short sentences. “Praying for you. Miss you.”
The sun was too far on the side of the west before she realized she’d forgotten to eat. She munched on her sandwich and stared at the cell phone. He hadn’t called. Court recessed for lunch over two hours earlier but he hadn’t returned her call. She tried again but no answer. The phone said it was after four in the afternoon. He should be home in an hour or two unless they wanted him for tomorrow and at that point, he would get a hotel room.
She stood, put away her gear, gathered her things, and trudged back toward home. Every step seemed farther from home than the previous one but eventually she stashed her things in the barn and put a pan of water on the stove to boil. It was early but she just felt like getting the work done and out of the way.
Every minute that she raked, milked, fed, and watered, she prayed and felt lonelier than she’d felt since those horrible days after her mother’s death. Chad had accustomed her to companionship again and not hearing from him hurt. As she finished, she wandered with Portia out to the tree by her mother’s grave and sat curled there, her phone open in the grass and waited to hear.
“He’s testifying against that family Mother. We have an advocate. Well, I know we’ve always had the Advocate but we have a nice human one too. He’s very good to us- works so hard to help make everything here run smoothly.” Willow dropped her head to her knees. “He loves me Mother. Not just cares about me like he does about his sister. Not anymore. He loves me. Sometimes I feel like I’m failing him that way but he doesn’t seem to be upset.”
Cars whizzed by, Portia chased the sticks she threw, and the sun sank slowly toward the horizon. Still Willow sat and thought, prayed, and rambled to her mother about everything from the state of the garden to the progress she was making on spinning. She jumped to her feet and called Portia to her side.
“Girl, I’m being immature. I don’t care if he’s gone all day working and then helping someone, off to see his mom, or Todd but being stuck in Rockland with that trial and I act like it’s the end of the world. I’m going to make some dinner, turn on that movie on the laptop, bring in the charger since I’ve run this battery down, and spin until I’m exhausted. There’s a storm coming. It sounds cozy.”
Suddenly, she felt energized. She heated soup, made a salad and another sandwich, flipped on the house electricity, and set up her movie. Eagerly she raced to the barn for the phone charger and carefully plugged it into the kitchen outlet where she could hear it. With everything ready, she clicked the play button on the laptop, sat at the spinning wheel, and began the slow steady treadle as she worked to get her rhythm.
The wool twisted into a thin cord and eventually she managed to keep it reasonably even. There was something extremely satisfying about spinning as she watched the mill workers in the old cotton mills of northern England. The first raindrops hit the windows as she finished the first bobbin.
Thunder flashed, the wind picked up and rattled the windows but she continued to spin and watch almost unaware of the storm raging outside. Eventually, her calf muscle protested. It seemed to take longer each time she sat at the wheel and a call to her physical therapist had assured her that she should push it until it threatened to go from sore to painful and then stop. Pain had already arrived.
Disappointed, Willow turned up the volume on the movie and moved the spinning wheel back into the corner by the chaise and limped back to the couch. Her muscle cream was upstairs in the bathroom and the idea of climbing the stairs frustrated her. Perhaps she should just go to bed. There was no way she’d come back down and then return to bed. She’d fall asleep on the couch and wake up stiff and cramped.
A new idea occurred to her, making Willow feel ridiculously modern and decadent. She grabbed the laptop and cord, crawled up the stairs, plugged it into the outlet behind Chad’s bed table and sat it on his side of the bed. Excitedly, she brushed her teeth, re-braided her hair, and grabbed the muscle cream before crawling into bed and restarting the movie. Movies in bed. What would Mother think?
***
It was still pouring the next morning. The thunder and lightning were gone but in their place was a steady rain that the farms nearby needed but Willow dreaded. Work was always so messy in the rain and usually meant the need for scrubbing floors. The one job she truly hated was scrubbing floors. She’d scrub the toilet, wash walls and windows, or beat carpets but floors were her nemesis.
Ditto protested her stall in the barn but Willow was unmoved regardless of several attempts to butt her out of the way. The chickens protested as well but Willow opened side panels to allow fresh air and left the birds in the dry coop. Nothing was more pathetic looking to her than a drenched chicken. The sheep and cow had plenty of fresh rainwater and seemed uninterested in crossing the pasture to say hi, much to Willow’s relief.
A new thought occurred to her as she stepped up on the porch. She did not want to drip muddy water all over the house as she entered. She did not want to scrub those floors. No one was home, there was no reason not to simply drop her clothing out the back door and take it to the barn that evening. Just to be certain that no one had arrived while she wasn’t looking, Willow walked around to the front of the house, nodded in satisfaction, and hurried to the back porch again.
Giggling gleefully, she raced through the house, upstairs, into her room and grabbed her most comfortable shorts and halter top. Even with the rain, it was very warm and her favorite cool clothes sounded like the epitome of comfort. She stood for an indecent amount of time in the shower allowing the hot water to pound her muscles and then slowly turned it to cold to cool her off again.
Before she hurried downstairs to make herself something for breakfast, Willow grabbed a wrap dress she’d made the previous summer. Now that Chad lived there, people stopped by sometimes. Not often, but how embarrassing it would be to be caught running around in clothes that covered so little. It was one thing for her to wear them for herself or even while Chad was sleeping but quite another when others were around. The dress would look lumpy but she’d be covered.
She remembered a wedding gift that Marianne had been so excited about. “Just put your meat and vegetables in it, add a little water, turn it on low, and let it cook all day. It’s perfect for hot summers in your house.”
At the back of the pantry on the top right corner shelf, she pulled down her four and a half quart crock-pot and carried it to the kitchen counter. Carefully, she slit the tape open and pulled the appliance from its protective Styrofoam blocks. An instruction manual sent her to the chaise as she read every word before trying to use it.
She stepped onto the back porch to take it to the summer kitchen and paused. The yard was full of mud she’d be drenched and filthy by the time she got back to the house. The sight of the floodlight on the barn reminded her that the electricity was on in the house. She could use it and stay indoors. Chad would be amazed to come home to a meal cooked with an appliance inside the house!
The clock chimed nine by the time she had her food arranged in the pot and it turned on in the corner of the counter. She glanced at the phone charger and saw her phone was fully charged again. No messages. It must have been an exhausting day. Poor Chad, he’d be exhausted by the time he got home.
Willow filled a bowl with Wheaties, poured her own milk over it, and took a bite. “Now that is good,” she murmured to herself and shuddered remembering the horrible taste of the milk Chad preferred to Ditto’s contribution.
Mother’s particularity for neatness was a blessing now. A kitchen cleaned as it is used is easy to polish when you’re done using it. The house needed little work done but Willow remembered Chad mentioning his dislike for hotel beds and decided to change the sheets and blankets for him. He’d sleep better in fresh linens and with clean blankets.
Automatically, she reached for the sheets they’d always used but paused. A set of unused and silky soft cotton sheets caught her eye. They’d been a gift from her uncle Kyle and his family for the wedding and she’d washed, dried, and folded them with the rest of the linens without expecting to use them for some time but now she ran her fingers over them again. They were so buttery feeling. Perhaps-
With a happy smile on her face, she grabbed the sheets and went to strip her bed. Her mattress pad looked limp and the sight of it sent her back to the linen closet where she pulled her mother’s from the top shelf. Sniffing it carefully, she nodded with satisfaction; there wasn’t a trace of dust or mustiness.
Singing as she worked, Willow made the bed adding her favorite lightweight summer blankets and her lightweight quilted coverlet. She loved the beauty of quilts but even the lightest weight batting was often too warm in summer so she’d made one with only a layer of low thread-count muslin as a batting one year It was perfect for hot summer nights.
Scooping up the pile of laundry, she dumped the bathroom hamper into the heap and carried it all downstairs to the back porch. Portia would probably have a lovely time sleeping on her blankets but right at that moment, Willow didn’t care. She refused to go near the barn unless absolutely necessary.
The phone stood forlorn on the counter. No flashing lights told her of a message. She picked it up called to leave a voicemail.. “I just wanted to see how you were doing and ask you to call or send a note. Everything is good here except that you’re not. Here that is. Anyway, praying for you… bye…”
He’d warned her that things were uncertain during trials. Anything could delay things, the judge could require them to turn in their cell phones and all kinds of electronic gadgets before entering the courtroom or he could be required to stay for another day. Willow, not really expecting it to be an issue, had assured him she’d see him when he got home and not to worry bout her. She’d never imagined that she’d begin to worry about him.
“You’re being ridiculous. Just because the last time he didn’t answer the phone was a nightmare doesn’t mean it always is. Go read a book or make something.”
***
By nine o’clock, she’d given up hope that he’d be home that night. The roast, cooked until it fell apart at the touch, was delicious and hardly touched. Sitting in the ice box and waiting to be reheated, it was a testimony to the ingenious invention, the crock-pot and to the sadness of one person eating it alone.
The coffee table was covered with a layer of handmade note cards and a stack of matching envelopes stood waiting to be paired with a card. She carefully replaced her supplies in their basket before returning it to the craft room and snapping off the light. In her room, she pulled a silky set of shorts and camisole from her drawers and examined it. Would the fabric breathe and be cool or would it be uncomfortable? It looked cool and felt so luxurious that she decided to try it. One glance at the bed sent a wave of disappointment over her. It wouldn’t be fresh anymore by tomorrow night and with the rain and her day off, she didn’t have time to do extra laundry to do it all over again.
Willow wandered through the house straightening little things and feeling lost. She was tired but antsy. The cards on her table were finally dry so she stacked them and set them on the bookshelf until she felt like matching them with envelopes. Finally, she stepped outside carrying her favorite couch pillow and curled into the porch swing to watch the stars, listen to the cicadas’ song, and reconnect with her Lord.
***
As she fed the chickens, the distinct sound of the French horns in Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture erupted from her jeans. “What!” She fished the phone from her pocket and flipped it open at the sight of Marianne’s name. “Oh Mom, my phone is playing music! I almost had a heart attack.”
“What is it playing?”
“The 1812 Overture- the part with the French horns? You know, da de da de da de da- da da.”
“Chad must have done it. Um, speaking of Chad, he asked me to call you.”
Willow’s voice grew wary. “About what? Why didn’t he call?”
“Well, his phone is broken for one thing. He needs to get a new one. Anyway, he asked me to tell you that he’s been detained here in town for a few more days.”
“Why?”
Marianne continued as though Willow hadn’t spoken. “-and he probably won’t be able to call. If he does, it’ll be very late at night.”
“Mom, what’s going on? Is there trouble with the trial?”
“Willow,” Marianne said as though dreading the coming discussion, “that’s all he told me to tell you except that he wants you to trust him. He’ll explain everything when he gets home.”
The protest that formed died on her lips as Marianne said ‘trust’. “Can you tell e if he’s ok?”
“He’s ok- now. He’ll be home as soon as he can.”
“Should I be praying?” Willow whispered nervously.
Marianne’s cheerful voice wiped away the final traces of concern from Willow’s voice as she assured Willow that prayer never hurts. Willow stared at the phone for several seconds after her mother-in-law disconnected and wondered just how long it’d be before he came home. She’d heard of sequestered juries- did they sequester witnesses too?
***
Late Sunday night, Willow once more sat on her porch swing wearing another camisole set and feeling cool and refreshed. Her hair was wet as she brushed the tangles from it and braided it into her familiar braid. One bare foot pushed the swing back and forth as she swayed in the night air. Portia lay with her head resting on Willow’s belly as Willow scratched behind her ears and sang her favorite Argosy Junction songs softly.
The past few days had been strange. After living alone for so long, she’d gotten accustomed to having Chad stop by, calling, having half the small chores done before she got up in the morning leaving her free to do other things. Without him, it felt lonely- empty. She missed his arm around her as she slept and hearing his heart beat when they curled on the couch together. She missed hearing about Aiden Cox’s latest prank or the strange serenade from one of the transports to Brunswick.
More than anything, however, she missed hearing him praise her. The giant tomato in her greenhouse was gone now- taken away by Jill. Chad would never hold it and tell her how amazing it was. She had yarn ready to dye but she’d waited for her to bring the Kool-aid that her instructions called for. She needed to hear that what she was doing was appreciated.
Just as she stood to go upstairs and try to sleep, head lights turned into the driveway from the highway. She walked slowly to the first step and wrapped an arm around the porch post straining to see into the night. The headlights were gone now. In a few seconds they’d flash over the top of the hill just before they illuminated the house and yard.
It was Chad’s truck. He was home. Everything would be back to normal now. Willow smiled as she skipped down the steps to greet him as he shut the truck door behind him.
“Lass? You ok?”
Willow’s arms wrapped around his neck as she stood behind the couch and laid her cheek on his head. “Yes. I think it was the milk. It tasted so funny and my stomach is still sensitive.”
“But the milk was fine.”
“It didn’t taste fine. Maybe I’m just not used to cow’s milk or maybe it’s the plastic. I don’t know, but it was the milk. Next time I’ll just use Ditto’s.”
“I think you need that BRAT diet. I’ll call mom and ask what is in it.”
Before Willow could ask, Chad was on the phone with his mother. She slowly climbed the stairs and stood before her mirror examining herself from every angle. She didn’t look bigger. In fact, she looked thinner as though she’d lost weight. Why was he worried about putting her on a diet? Did she really look that bad?
“Mom says banana, rice, applesauce, and dry toast.”
“I have applesauce and toast.”
“What are you doing up here?” Chad had never seen her stare at herself in the mirror like that.
“Just looking. Do I really look that bad?”
“You look a little peaked but once your stomach recovers and you can eat normally again, you’ll be fine. Put back on the pounds you lost.”
The confusion on her face was priceless. “You want to put me on a diet so that I can gain weight?”
“What diet?”
“The BRAT one that you had to get from your mom.”
He took her hand leading her downstairs laughing as he went. “No silly, it’s a ‘diet’ in that it’s a prescribed regimen of food. It’s what people eat for a day or two after they’ve had a stomach bug to make it easy on their stomach.” He handed her a glass of water and opened the front door. “Ride to town with me. It’ll be good for you.”
“As long as you don’t expect me to go in anywhere. I need a shower.”
Her stomach rumbled along with the wheels on her way to town. “I guess I’m hungry.”
“I’ll have a banana for you in no time. Do you like them still slightly green, very yellow, or a little overripe?”
She stared at him dumbstruck. “How am I supposed to know? I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve had a banana. We didn’t grow them. As far as I know, they don’t grow very well here.”
The sarcasm in her voice nearly made Chad jump for joy. His Willow was back. “Do you remember if they had green on them or spots?”
“I remember they existed. They were good. Sweet but not too sweet like some things.”
“I’ll get you a basic ripe banana. And rice. White or brown- never mind, I think I remember mom telling Cheri to do white back when we were in high school. Something about not as nutritious but easier on the stomach.”
Willow waited in the truck as Chad crossed the street waving at nearly everyone and disappeared into the market. A memory flashed through her mind of the first time she remembered coming to town. Based upon her dress, Willow assumed she’d been around four or five years old. She saw the way her mother kept her hat pulled so that it hid most of her face and wondered what others had thought of the strange woman and child that came to town once or twice a year.
“Mother, why are the houses so close together?”
The ever-patient voice of her mother answered as she wove through the streets avoiding the eyes of those who tried to be friendly. “Because some people like to live on top of each other.”
“But there’s no room for gardens or animals. How do they eat?”
“See that store?” Her mother paused and stooped down to the child’s level. “See where the lady in the purple shirt is going in? That’s a grocery store. People buy all the food they need in there.”
“That store isn’t big enough to grow enough food for all of these people! Our garden is almost as big as that store and where do they keep the animals? These cars would kill chickens.”
Familiar chuckles made the child feel secure and foolish at the same time. She knew what those chuckles meant. It meant that she’d said something silly and that her mother didn’t see how smart she really was for thinking of these things. The child thought her mother didn’t always appreciate her intelligence.
“Willow, the store only keeps enough food for a week or so. They have food brought from everywhere. By bringing it so often, they ensure that everything is fresh. People just go get what they need for a week or two and then come back.”
Willow’s next words surprised the mother. “How sad. I’m sorry for them.”
“Why sorry?”
“They don’t get to see things grow. They don’t get to know that the tomato they’re eating is the one they picked ’specially for them. They have to take whatever someone else gives them.”
Mother laughed. “Want to know a secret?” she whispered in the child’s ear. “The food isn’t as good either. They have to pick it too soon so that it doesn’t spoil before they get it to the stores.”
“I will pray for them. Those poor, poor people. Someone should tell them-”
“They know, Willow. They know.”
“That’s just foolish.” The emphatic tone of the child’s voice amused a passer-by.
“They would say that working so hard for enough to eat and a way to stay warm and dry is foolish. Everyone makes their choices.”
“But some people make foolish ones,” Willow added with finality. “I’m glad God gave me to a Mother who makes smart choices for us.”
“Oh Willow.”
Arms around her startled her. “Wha-”
“What’s wrong, Lass? Do you feel worse?”
She realized that tears were streaming down her face. “I was remembering a trip with Mother. I didn’t even know I was crying.”
“You should write those memories down. Our children will treasure them.” He reached for the box of Kleenex he kept in the glove compartment. “Here.”
“Did you get bananas and rice?”
Chad pulled out a box of fruit popsicles. “And popsicles. It’s almost as medicinal for a stomach bug as chicken soup is for a cold or the flu.”
Willow pulled the stick from the wrapper and bit off the end of it. “Ohh!”
Laughing Chad grabbed another Kleenex and handed it to her. “Spit it out if you need to. It’s cold.”
“I should have expected it but I didn’t,” she said surprised.
“Nibble or suck on it. It’ll soothe your throat too. Let’s get you home and if you keep that down, I’ll give you a banana.”
“But this isn’t part of the BRAT thing. Popsicle wasn’t in there.” She looked at it warily. Another bout of vomiting was not what she had in mind for her afternoon.
“This counts as a liquid. Liquids don’t count for the BRAT so you’re ok.”
She glanced his way and sighed. “I think BRAT is a double entendre. I think it also stands for the state of mind of people who are too weak to protest but too hungry not to.”
***
Late that night, Chad noticed Willow’s journal on the coffee table and opened it hesitantly. She’d assured him that he was welcome to read them at any time but it seemed like such an invasion of her privacy. Willow had given up so much of her life to make him a part of it that he felt like any more intrusion was almost criminal.
This time, however, he opened it. Curiosity triumphed over his unnecessary scruples and he sprawled out on the couch, munched on his sandwich, and flipped to the first page. The first words surprised him.
March-
It seems that nothing I do in this new life of mine is right. One moment I think I have the hang of things and the next I’ve unwittingly stomped on more toes. I have wondered at times if stepping away from Mother’s isolation was the best choice for me but even if it wasn’t, I couldn’t go back now. Life without Marianne and Libby- without Cheri and Chuck it’s a sad thought. Life without Chad? Inconceivable!
On the other hand, I do see that our life made us selfish. We did what we wanted, when we wanted, and with little regard for anyone but ourselves because our way of life encouraged it. If Mother wanted to take up weaving, she did it. She didn’t wonder if maybe the noise of the loom would hurt my head or if I thought the thing was ugly sitting in the living room night after night. I may have found it obnoxious but we each respected the other’s ‘right’ to be obnoxious I guess. She hated the idea of sheep but I could have bought them at any time. We both knew that if I wanted them badly enough, I would have just done it and Mother wouldn’t have said a word. It’s just how we did things. It worked for us but rarely did we have to die to self.
He skipped a few months and read from mid-April.
I decided what to give Chad for a wedding gift. Once he mentioned that he’d be giving me one, I realized that it was an opportunity for me to step out in faith. I’ll move his things into my room and pray for the strength and the courage to trust. I know I can trust Chad to treat me well but I need the faith to trust the Lord that what He created as good is truly good. Mother left no doubt in my mind that the things of marriage are horrible and to be avoided. Mother wasn’t a liar. How do I reconcile what she said with what God and the Tesdalls and my Chad say?
Chad swallowed hard. He hadn’t realized how torn she’d been. He reread it once more smiling in spite of himself. She’d called him ‘her’ Chad. She was fond of him. He’d known it for some time but seeing that unintentional possessiveness meant a lot to him. At times, he’d felt very alone. He’d finally accepted that she might never love him as he loved her and though it hurt to acknowledge it, it had also strengthened his resolve to love her as unconditionally as he possibly could.
He slowly climbed the stairs, crept into their room, and ran the backs of his fingers across the top of her head as she slept. The second banana peel lay on the nightstand next to a pile of popsicle sticks. From the looks of it, she’d eaten every one in the box. He sighed, kissed her cheek, and left whispering, “Love you lass.”
Being as observant as most males, Chad’s hands were washed, dried, and he was on his way out the bathroom door before he glanced at the back of the toilet. The test was gone. He hurried into their bedroom and glanced at the night tables but nothing was there. Back to the bathroom, he glanced in the trash and found the wrapper but no instructions and no used- His eyes fell on the test at last.
Comparing instructions to test, it was obvious to Chad that the test was negative. Disappointment washed over him. He’d been so sure. Why was she so sick if she wasn’t pregnant? Willow was never sick and had little opportunity to catch anything anyway. The sound of the back screen door banging softly against the doorjamb told him she was up and dealing with her own discouragement.
She sat on her heels stuffing the stove with wood and mumbling something under her breath. “You’re awake.”
“I think we’re a pair of geniuses. I was just about to make the same observation.” Chad’s heart constricted at the pain in her eyes but he didn’t move closer. “Lass, it’s not the end of everything. There’s always next month, or the next, or even next year or so.”
“You were so excited…” She noted his distance and closed her eyes slowly and deliberately before reaching for another handful of kindling. “It feels like I failed-”
Chad’s hands, on their way to his pockets in his characteristic frustrated stance, reached for her instead. “Oh Willow, I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to feel like that! I jumped the gun. I’ve never seen you sick so I just assumed-”
“But I’m late.” I am sure of it. Normally I don’t pay really close attention but your mother said about our wedding date and I wanted to surprise you so-” She buried her face in his shoulder and fought back a wave of dizziness but failed.
She sagged in his arms limply. “I’m dizzy…”
Chad hoisted her over his shoulder and carried her to the couch. “Put your head between your legs and breathe normally.”
“What happened?” Her voice was a little weak and confused.
“You said you were dizzy.”
“That’s right.” She glanced back up at him but the spinning of the room sent her head back down between her knees. “I want to lay down.”
As he rolled the quilt from the back of the couch into a ball, Chad began thinking aloud. “Maybe you’re dehydrated. Have you been drinking enough?”
“I’ve not been able to keep much down if you’ll remember.”
“I wonder if I should take you into the clinic…” His voice trailed off in the general direction of his thoughts as Chad considered their options.
“Maybe,” she said obviously feeling better having lain down, “you should consider getting me something with which to hydrate myself first. Water works.”
Absently, Chad poured her a glass of water and brought it back stuffing a straw in it as he handed it to her. “Drink up.”
“It’s stuffy in here.”
Her complaints brought a smile to his face. Willow must be feeling better if she noticed stuffiness of all things. While she rested, sipping water and resting her eyes, he threw open all of the windows knowing that with the coming storm, he’d just have to close them again later. “Is that better?”
“I smell a storm.”
“Yep. The forecast is for heavy winds, rain, and possibly hail.”
“Hail?” She sat up abruptly looking visibly woozy. “It gets cold in here when it hails. We’ll need more wood for upstairs tonight.”
“I’ll get it. You rest.”
“Can you open the windows up there too? The breeze just before a storm smells so good…”
***
With shades drawn to keep the sunrise from slowly filling the room with sunlight, Willow crept from the bedroom closing the door behind her. Downstairs, she opened the front door and groaned at the sight of her front yard. Tree branches littered the grass, one large one crashed through the porch railing, and some of her flowers battered beyond recognition.
Chad opened the back door an hour later to find the chickens pecking at the seed in the yard, Ditto in a freshly cleaned stall, and Willow dragging tree branches behind the barn. As he watched her, his hands found their way into his pockets and the crease between his eyebrows deepened. She looked tired- exhausted really. Every move, every step looked labored.
He hurried inside, filled a glass with water, and brought it out to her. “I’ll finish that one, you go sit on the steps and drink up.”
“But-”
“Lass…” His tone was one he’d only used once before when he’d ordered her from his parents’ house that winter.
“I’m going, I’m going.”
She sat long enough to empty her glass and then pulled her gloves back onto her hands and started pulling debris from the flower beds. They worked for another hour. Chad detached the railing from the house and dumped it in the back of his truck. “I’ll go get another one later.”
“I’m hungry.” Willow sank into the porch swing exhausted, weak, and thirsty.
“You,” Chad said loudly as he went inside for the couch quilt. “You need your rest. I’ll go get a new rail top and be back in no time. I’ll grab something for us to eat on my way back.”
Willow pointed at the empty glass and promptly fell asleep. Chad refilled it, sat it on the ground next to her, and watched her sleep for a moment before he jogged to his truck and drove toward Brunswick. His watch told him he had just enough time to get there, get the materials, and get it fixed before he had to change for work.
His phone rang. “I just left you sleeping!”
“I heard the truck start. Listen, I was thinking. Can you get me some red exterior paint?”
“Red?”
Her impatient voice snapped back, “Yes red. You know, the color of tulips and candy canes?”
“Whatever for?”
“I really loved Aggie’s door but I thought I couldn’t have one because the screen would hide it. Why go red if you can’t see it, you know?”
Chad nodded absently. “Ok.”
“Well, if I paint the screen, I get that bright and cheerful door after all. A gallon will probably be too much but it’ll be good for touch ups.’
“Red. Got it. Anything else?”
She smiled to herself. “Do you remember last summer when I had a bad day and you brought me some chocolate thing?”
A grin spread slowly over Chad’s face. “I do indeed.”
“Can I have another one?” She hesitated. “I promise I won’t eat the paper this time.”
“You can have a case of ‘em.”
Willow smiled to herself. “That’s ok. Just one will do. Thanks Chad. I’m going back to sleep now.”
“Sleep on the couch it’s more comfy.”
“That’s your opinion,” she argued. “Nothing beats nostalgia on a June morning.”
She was still sleeping there as Chad pulled slowly into the yard. He pushed his door shut gently, grabbed the grocery bags from the back of the truck and crept past her to the back door and into the house. He set the table with bowls, spoons, and a gallon of milk. Orange juice filled glasses, he fried bacon in a pan on the stove in the summer kitchen, and finally crept out the front door to wake her.
“Willow, breakfast’s ready.”
“Wha-”
“I brought home breakfast. Come on, the bacon is getting cold!” He shook her shoulder glancing at the empty glass of water. At least she’d taken hydration seriously.
She dragged herself off the swing and followed him clumsily into the kitchen. “I am so tired.”
Chad looked at her sharply. Dark circles beneath her eyes made her look as though she hadn’t slept in days. “You look it.”
“Ever the flatterer- what is this?”
“Cereal smorgasbord! I bought all of my favorite kinds and the one mom likes.”
“Frosted Mini-Wheats, Cocoa Puffs, Lucky Charms, Fruit Loops, Cap’n Crunch Berries, and Wheaties? Let me guess, your mom likes Wheaties. They just sound closer to real food.”
He shook his head. “Nope, she likes Cap’n Crunch. I think it’s gross myself. I got the berries because I think it makes them more edible.”
“What’s with the milk? We have plenty-”
“Well, your milk is good, for goat’s milk that is, but cold cereal was designed for cow’s milk. It’s like eating pizza without the sauce.”
As he spoke, Chad filled his bowl with Cocoa Puffs and smothered it in milk. She reached for the first box, poured a tiny bit in the bowl, poured milk over it and took a bite. As she chewed, she read the box ingredients, glanced over the packaging, and then closed it. “Lucky Charms are gross.”
She picked up the Fruit Loops box and repeated the scenario. At the end of her buffet of cereals, she pronounced Wheaties the winner with Frosted Mini-Wheats a close second. “The orange juice was really good too.”
She rinsed her glass and poured half a glass of milk as she reached for a cold slice of bacon. “I love bacon. Mother would bring it home sometimes and the butcher usually brought us a pound of it with the cow if Mother remembered to ask.”
She took a drink of milk and nearly choked. Chad’s expression was priceless. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s awful! It tastes like- like, some kind of chemical. I don’t know how to explain it but it’s almost dusty tasting or something. Ew.”
Chad quickly poured him a glass and took a large swallow. “Tastes great to me.”
“Oh that is just- ew.” She watched fascinated as he guzzled the rest of his drink and then poured the rest of hers into his glass. “Here, finish mine then.”
She stared at the boxes of cereal on the table. “Do you realize how many boxes we have? It’ll take forever to eat all of this!”
Chad grinned. “But think of the fun we’ll have.”
As much as she wished she felt the same, Willow was dismayed to think of many more breakfasts with cold and dry cereal growing soggy before she could get to the final bites. She shuddered inwardly just thinking about it. Carrying the boxes to the pantry, she set them on a shelf at eye level so she wouldn’t forget about them. It’d be wasteful to let them get stale and inedible no matter how appealing the idea seemed.
She sank into her chair and reached for her glass. Willow sighed as she realized she’d have to rinse it again before she could fill it with water. Chad noticed, and took it to the sink rinsing well, and then brought it back. “Keep drinking. I want to see those circles gone from under your eyes.”
“I need another nap. I think I’ll go back upstairs.”
As she disappeared from the kitchen, Chad stared at the empty doorway. She acted so pregnant! The test said no but she was tired, she’d been so sick, and the dizziness all seemed like symptoms he’d heard over the years. Uncertain of what else to do, he dialed home.
“Mom?”
“Chaddie! I’ve been going crazy! What did the test say?”
“Test was negative mom but she’s still acting so weird. She is sleeping so much, she has dark circles under her eyes, she’s gotten dizzy a couple of times, and milk tastes funny to her.”
“Well, her milk tastes funny to me too but-”
“No mom,” Chad interrupted impatiently. “I brought home real milk to put on cold cereal- did you know she’s never had cold cereal?”
“Did you get her Cap’n Crunch?”
“She didn’t like it any more than the others I bought. She hardly commented on it at all which tells me she’s still sick. Willow never keeps her opinions to herself with me.
This, Marianne could believe. Willow was, if nothing else, forthright with her opinions. “So maybe it’s just too early. If she doesn’t start in a few days, have her take another one.”
“But if she’s too early to show up on a test, wouldn’t she be too early to get sick?”
“Well, for most women, yes. But who knows with her? Maybe she’s one of those women who is sick within a few hours. I’ve heard of women who start vomiting within minutes but I admit, it’s rare.”
Chad thought about that. “Oh mom, we can’t have her that sick. There is too much here for me to do myself and she was totally incapacitated.”
“So you’ll buy canned tomatoes and peaches and whatever else she does. The gal who buys from the garden can do her own picking and when you’re working, that boy can come feed and milk. It’ll work.”
His mother’s words, while logical and practical, were not encouraging. “I hope this is just some kind of stomach bug. Maybe she ate something fishy in Rockland during her deposition.”
“This being ‘just a bug’ isn’t going to erase the possibility of a difficult pregnancy Chad. You have to…”
“To what mom?”
Marianne didn’t answer for a moment as she thought about her idea. It could be helpful but she wasn’t sure how painful it might be. “Well, I just thought of something. Did Kari keep journals that far back?”
“Yes. She has journals from her college days.”
“I’d find the right months and look and see how she reacted to pregnancy. See if she mentions getting sick, how bad, and that kind of stuff. Willow might remember but I’d look it up myself. That must be hard-”
“Willow hasn’t ever read them and therefore, neither have I. She just skipped to the one when she was about to give birth and ignored the rest.”
“Read it son,” Marianne urged. “It can only help. If her mother was this sick this early, you’ve got a better idea of what might be happening. It doesn’t mean anything if she wasn’t but it’s a starting place.”
Before he could say another word, the horrible sounds of retching reached him. “Gotta go mom, there she goes again.”
“Sick?”
“Yeah,” he groaned rushing to dampen a washcloth as he tried to extricate himself from the conversation.
“Praying.” The phone clicked.
Willow sat up in bed looking tiny, miserable, and confused. “I thought I was done but-” Another heave sent the rest of her breakfast from her stomach. “I guess not.”
Chad glanced at the clock. It was nearly ten and he had to be at work by two. They had to get to the bottom of this and soon. He laid the cloth across her forehead and told her to lie back and rest. Fighting the urge to lose his own breakfast, he dumped and scrubbed- again.
“I’m sorry, Chad. I don’t know what is wrong with me…”
“You’re sick. Either with a stomach bug, some kind of food poisoning, or possibly a baby or two.”
“Two?”
“Mom said something about twins maybe being why everything was so bad so fast if you are pregnant.” Chad remembered the sinking feeling he had trying to imagine two babies at once and how it had mingled with a momentary feeling of excitement. Two! He couldn’t let himself think about it.
“I guess twice the children, twice the misery makes sense.”
He laughed. “That’s encouraging. Hey, she also suggested we check your mother’s journals for that time. She thought maybe if your mom got sick quickly, maybe it’s genetic or something.”
“You do it. I tried to read them once and I haven’t tried again. It was horrible. If they don’t say anything, maybe Grandmother Finley would know.”
As though she’d finished her job of talking, Willow grabbed the blanket, pulled it over her shoulder, curled into a ball around the bucket, and promptly fell asleep. Chad stood in the doorway, hands stuffed in his jeans and shook his head as she slept. She was so fragile looking and the words fragile and Willow didn’t belong in the same thought.
He went into Kari’s old room, looked at the shelf between the closet and bedroom doors, and then glanced around the rest of the room. They weren’t in there. He checked the spare and craft rooms, the shelf in the living room, and finally found them on the top shelf of the closet in the library. He pulled the three volumes from the shelf and stared curiously at them. Three volumes for less than nine months of life. She’d been, well, prolific in recording her thoughts, dreams, and fears.
He set his cell phone to ring at one-thirty and sank into the couch already dreading the words to come. As an officer, even the thought of what Kari had endured made him livid. Why should the wealthy get away with crimes like that? How could Steven Solari even think his money could salve the pain his son inflicted on a young woman?
October 1983,
I have the check. I don’t know what to do with it. I took it because I thought I’d take it to the police for proof of who it was but I’m scared. It’s my word against Steve’s. Mr. Solari can simply say that he didn’t want nasty lies spread about their family and paying me off was easier than going through a scandal to prove their innocence.
I could keep it, save it, and if someone else came forward then I could maybe use it to show them that she wasn’t the only one. Maybe that’s what I’ll do.
I’m afraid of him. Steven Solari isn’t like his son. Steve was just an uncontrolled brute but Mr. Solari is a very controlled and very powerful man. I wonder why he hasn’t just had me killed? He could easily do that. I wonder if he’s waiting for me to cash the check.
November 1983,
I took a pregnancy test today. I was sure the stress of everything was just making me late but I thought I’d take it just so I could sleep knowing that one thing in my life was fine.
It’s not. The little test tube and dropper thing was so frustrating. It warned me not to jostle it and it took forever for the results but if this thing is to be believed, I am pregnant. I don’t know what I’ll do now.
November 1983-
I cashed the check, bought a house, walked out of my apartment and left my car door open in the campus parking lot. I found a financial guy who set it up so that some kind of corporation bought the house and has the utilities so no one will find me. I hated leaving without saying goodbye. I couldn’t take anything with me- not even my purse. Mr. Barnes is taking care of everything for me. He says in a couple of years I can request a new driver’s license and Social Security card and no one will be looking for me anymore.
I added the time and I’m six weeks pregnant. The baby will be here in mid July. From the books I have, I should be getting sick anytime now. Lord, I’m so scared.
Chad read through December and January but saw nothing but occasional glimpses of nausea and no vomiting. From the sheer volume of work that Kari seemed to accomplish, he assumed that fatigue wasn’t a problem. Basically, her journals told much and confirmed nothing.
One passage from January ripped at his heart. Kari’s words echoed in his mind as he stared at the journal. “… why did he ask me out? Why didn’t I hide in the bathroom when he got so drunk? Why didn’t I call a cab? Why am I so stupid? Why?”
She stretched, yawned, clutched the bucket, and then relaxed. No wave of nausea followed but her muscles felt weak and her mouth tasted as though something crawled inside and died. Willow crawled from the bed and stumbled into the bathroom eager to brush her teeth. Minutes later she flushed the toilet and saw a plastic wrapper and a folded paper pamphlet.
Not until she was cuddled against her pillows sipping on 7-Up and resting did she realize the purpose of the wrapper an pamphlet. She read all instructions carefully, reread them, and was on a third pass before Chad found her flipping the paper back and forth curiously.
“Hey, did you test?”
“I’m reading. Did you know that the other side is in what looks like Spanish? I saw diez. I think that’s ten and on the other side the same paragraph says something about not reading it after ten minutes.”
“Most medications and instructions come in English and Spanish.” He hesitated searching for the right words. “Estados Unidos llega a ser una sociedad bilingüe. Or something like that. I’m rusty.”
“Say it again. That’s beautiful!”
Chad repeated the words slowly watching comprehension dawn as she listened. “I heard States United society bilingual. You said something about the United States being a bilingual society.”
“Very good. I actually went with a fairly literal translation of ‘the United States is becoming a bilingual society.’ I’m sure it’s not correct but I was always better at translating than at communication.”
“When did you learn Spanish?”
Chad shrugged. “Two semesters in high school, two more in college. I thought it’d help on the job and it’s easier to learn than Japanese, Korean, or Russian which are the other four most spoken languages in the greater Rockland area.”
“I can see why it’s easy to understand anyway. It’s very similar to English. I mean I knew it was to a degree- Latin is at the core of both languages but the songs I’ve heard in Spanish were never as easy to understand as what you just said.”
“Well,” Chad admitted, “It’s not all that simple but compared to Swahili or something-”
“Why would you learn that? Is there a large population of Swahili speaking criminals in the area?”
Her question would have seemed sarcastic to the average person but Willow was curiously serious. “No. That’s just a joke. So are you ready to try the test?”
“It wants me to-” Suddenly, Willow understood her mother’s distaste in discussing personal bodily fluids. In general, things were fine. Personalize them and well, she’d either gotten self-conscious for no reasonable reason or she was becoming her mother.
“Yeah, I know how they work.”
“Really? Then why leave me the directions? Why not just tell me?”
Chad stared at her oddly. Was she teasing him? Was she serious? Was she curious? The whole scenario was bizarre. “Well, you tend to like to read things for yourself…”
“I do. You just usually tell me how it works and I wonder why you don’t want me to read the instructions and this time you didn’t.”
He stared to protest but the truth of her words effectively corked his reply. He did tend to set instructions aside and tell her what he thought they said. He hadn’t picked up on it but Willow sure had. “Next time, ask for the instructions. I wasn’t doing it consciously.”
“You haven’t steered me wrong yet. When you make me take twice as long as necessary to do something, then I’ll start asking to read the instructions.” Before he could reply, she tossed the paper at him. “I used the bathroom before I read it and I have very little liquid to absorb as it is. I need to drink for a while.”
Chad rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. “Where do you think we should put a baby? In mother’s room or in the one you just fixed up?”
Willow curled next to him resting her head on his chest. “I don’t know. I’ll have to read which is best and see why mother chose this room for me and her room for her. There might be a reason.”
***
Willow covered her mouth to stifle a giggle as Chad stood in front of the bathroom window rocking the pregnancy test back and forth trying to get a clearer reading. “It’s not going to change. I think I did something wrong.”
“What can you do wrong? How hard is it to pee on a stick for goodness sake!”
“Well, maybe for a man it’s not so hard but women are shooting blind you know!” The indignation in Willow’s voice did little to hide her amusement.
He threw her an impatient smile and shifted once more. “Well, I think there’s a line in that control window but it’s so faint I can’t tell. The other window seems to have a line too but it’s also faint so I can’t tell what is going on. I think you need to do it again.”
“Well, then we’ll have to wait a while because I need a nap.”
Chad glanced at his watch, confused. She’d hardly been awake for an hour. It was almost four o’clock and she’d slept most of the day away. He’d never heard of that kind of somnolence as a symptom of pregnancy but what did he know? Tucking her into the bed, he positioned the bucket nearby just in case. “Get some sleep. I’ll go buy the soup du jour at the deli. It’ll be easier on your stomach for dinner than anything I can make and it’ll taste better than canned.”
“Mmm hmm. Thanks,” she murmured, half asleep already.
On the porch, Chad dialed his mother. Her excited voice sent him into panic mode. “Mom, stop! I don’t know. She took the test and it was a dud or something. You’re supposed to see lines in two windows and if I held it just right with my right hip cocked and my tongue sticking out I think I saw a line in each window but for all I know, it’s just the light shining on whatever chemical makes up that line in the first place.”
“Well, she can take another one. Did you buy two?”
“I bought two boxes so we’d have a spare but there are three in each box. Honestly mom, why three in a box? Do they really need to triple confirm?”
“I think it’s so if you’re negative one month, you don’t have to go back over and over.”
The disgust in Chad’s voice was comical. “I think it’s so they can sell the duds and blame it on the consumer. Willow immediately said she thought she messed up the test.”
“Oh, what did she do wrong?”
“Come on mom, how hard is it to pee on a stick!”
“Well Chad,” she began patiently,” really. Remember how you and Chris used to drop Cheerios in the toilet and try to aim for them. Girls couldn’t do that. They’d be shooting blind.”
Chad stared at his phone. “Have you been talking to Willow?”
“No, why?”
“She said the same exact thing. It’s like déjà vu. I feel like that kid in A Christmas Story. Is everyone going to tell me she’ll shoot her eye out?”
“Oh honestly Chad. You are being silly! Now why don’t you just go make her a nice bowl of soup-”
Chad interrupted quickly. “Actually, that’s why I’m calling. I’m on my way to buy some at the deli. We don’t have anything light enough for a weak stomach.”
“You’re calling about soup?”
“No, I’m calling,” he tried again with practiced patience. Why wasn’t his mother following the conversation better? It was as though she’d lost her mind at the hint of babies or something. “Because she’s asleep again. She’s slept most of today and all last night.”
“Well, some pregnant women do that. I remember Libby saying she slept away the first four months of her pregnancy with Corinne.”
“We don’t even know if she is pregnant, mom!”
Marianne reminded her son that after any stomach bug, he’d always slept most of a day away while he recuperated. “She’ll either be fine and pregnant or fine and ready to handle a miserable late cycle. It’s pretty much either or on that one.”
***
At two a.m., Chad strolled into the police station, trying not to worry about his wife, thanking the Lord for the unlikelihood of a drunk tourist, and counting the hours until his lunch break. “Hey Waverly. How’re you doing?”
“Fine but what are you doing here?”
Chad pointed to the board where his name had been written, erased, and Waverly’s filled in. “You worked for me yesterday. Go home.”
“No. Your wife is sick. You go home and get some sleep before you come down with it. That bug is awful.”
Oh how Chad wanted to deny it was the problem. He couldn’t wait until he could tell everyone that his wife was having a baby. “Ugh,” he mused to himself. “You sound um… paternal! You’re only twenty-six man, get a grip.”
“Chad?”
He glanced back up into Waverly’s concerned face. “Huh?”
“Go. Home.”
“I can’t do that to you.”
Waverly placed his hand on the phone. “Do you go home now, or do I wake up the Chief and tell him you refuse to obey orders.”
“Since when do I take orders from you?”
“From the chief, you moron,” Waverly spat exasperated. “Get out of here or I’m calling and you can deal with Sir Sleepless.”
“Sir Sleepless?” Chad couldn’t help mocking him.
“It’s two in the morning and I’ve almost worked a double shift. What do you want from me?”
“You to know how much I appreciate it. Thanks Brad.”
***
At four, Willow finally dragged herself from the bed, grabbed the instructions, and padded toward the bathroom. Chad barely stirred. Though woozy from lack of food and fuzzy from too much rest, Willow felt nearly well. She grabbed test number two and reread the instructions carefully. Instructions for saved urine seemed easier so she retrieved a pint canning jar from the pantry and followed directions step by step.
The clock never moved so slowly. As the thought flitted across her mind, Willow realized that it was also a strange thought. How would she know? She’d read the comment repeated times and finally understood the meaning in more than a theoretical sense but the fact of the mater was, she rarely noticed the passing of time unless it was one of those odd occasions when she realized that something was unusually swift. This was the opposite feeling. If it could go any slower, time would cease.
Finally, the clock in Mother’s room insisted that ten minutes had passed. She picked up the test and examined it carefully. In the ‘control window’ a nice bold line stood out from the damp background. In the ‘results window’ nothing. She wasn’t pregnant. Chad would be so disappointed.
Laying the test on the sink where he could see it and tucking the instructions behind the faucet for easy reference, Willow crept slowly downstairs, out the back door, and sat on the porch whistling softly for Portia. “No baby, girl. I couldn’t imagine so soon but then again, when we bred Dandy, it only took the once so…”
Portia rested her head comfortingly on Willow’s leg. Together, woman and dog, sat on the back porch of Walden Farm and while the woman imagined life with a tiny baby, a toothy toddler, or an inquisitive child, Portia slept dreaming of chasing butterflies that turned into steak. Or at least, that’s what Willow assumed.
Go HERE and enjoy!
Willow held her phone away from her, one hand covering her mouth, and her eyes closed tight. She was tempted to refuse. After all, if she did, maybe the D.A. wouldn’t subpoena her. It might happen, right? She remembered Chad’s words and hesitated. Was it disrespectful to balk at something that she knew Chad wanted her to do willingly? He asked so little of her and while technically he hadn’t asked her to give her deposition willingly, she knew he hoped she would. With a deep breath, she opened her eyes, held the phone back to her ear and sighed.
“I’m here. I’ll come whenever you need me but I want to make it plain, I won’t be volunteering any information. I’ll answer your questions but I’ll not elaborate.”
“You don’t want to testify against the woman responsible for all your trouble last winter?”
“She’s not. Her husband is and he’s dead.”
“And your grandmother,” the D.A.’s assistant said firmly, “Killed him.”
“I’m aware of that but since I have hardly spoken to the woman, I don’t see how that is relevant to me. I’m only cooperating out of respect for my husband and his job. If I were single, I’d rot in jail before I testified.”
“I see.” The tone of the D.A.’s assistant told Willow that the woman didn’t ’see’ at all.
“When do I need to be there and how long should I expect it to take?”
“Monday morning, eleven-thirty. We’ll break for lunch at one o’clock. Depending on how well its going we could be done by then or have several more hours. It really depends on if the defense attorney perceives you as an asset or a liability.”
“And,” Willow said wearily, “If I do this, then I don’t have to go to court?”
“Probably not but you never know. Sometimes people are called, sometimes not. But if we don’t get a deposition, you will be called to testify in court.”
“Then I’ll testify. I’ll see you Monday morning. Bye.”
Willow snapped the phone shut with more force than necessary. Leaving her baskets of freshly picked produce sitting at the edge of the garden, she slowly wandered toward her mother’s grave talking to Portia as she went. Portia, somehow, had become the replacement for Othello that Saige had never had the chance to become.
“Portia girl, I don’t know about this. I don’t want to do it but I want to disappoint Chad even less. What would Mother do?”
The dog looked at her innocently as if to say, “how on earth should I know?”
“Othello?” Willow sank to the grassy mound next to her mother and scratched Portia’s ears as she rambled her thoughts aloud. “What do you think? What would Mother do?” She giggled. “Of course, if I ask you, why can’t I ask mother. I feel like that bookkeeper in the movie about the bookstore owner asking the mother what they should do.”
Chad saw her there several hours later as he turned into the driveway. She lay curled on the ground sleeping under the shade of the tree with Portia chasing butterflies nearby. At the sound of his wheel on the driveway, Portia raced for the fence excitedly.
As he leapt over the fence and strode to Willow’s side, Chad’s face slowly furrowed in concern. Why was she out here? Willow rarely visited the grave unless bothered by something. What was she planning?
He sat beside her, brushing escaped tendrils from her braid away from her face and watched her sleep. Though it made him feel strange and sometimes foolish, Chad loved to watch her sleep. He’d always heard how parents enjoyed gazing on their sleeping children and thought it sounded almost creepy but not any more.
A glance at his watch told him he’d better waken her. Jill would be arriving any minute to pick up the produce and Willow wouldn’t want to be caught asleep. “Willow?” He shook her shoulder gently. “Come on lass, it’s time to wake up.”
Willow stirred murmuring sleepily, “Hmm?”
“Jill will be here soon. Come on, you fell asleep out here.” His hand trailed along her cheek and then tugged on her ear playfully. “Come on, you can do it.”
“I don’t want to get up. It’s nice and warm here.” The words were mumbled and clearly not fully consciously spoken.
He had to wake her up but how was another story. In the house, he’d have dumped water on her head but somehow he couldn’t bring himself to do that out here. Finally, he picked her up, set her on her feet, and held her there in a bear hug until she slowly opened her eyes. “Hey lass.”
“Hi,” she murmured sleepily. “What a way to wake up, eh?”
“It’s almost time for Jill to-”
Full consciousness arrived instantly. “Oh no!” She started to run toward the barn but Chad caught her hand.
“The truck Willow. It’s faster and it’ll give you a minute to wake up.”
“Right.”
He glanced at her sideways as they rolled toward the yard. “What were you doing out there?”
She sighed. “Coming to grips with my deposition on Monday.”
“You decided to do it?”
“Well I thought I didn’t have a choice.” The dismay in her voice was clearly evident.
“Well, you can refuse a request- just not a subpoena.”
Willow nodded resignedly. “That’s what I thought. I don’t want to make it hard on you so-”
“You did it for me?”
“Of course!” Her indignation would have been comical if he hadn’t found her actions so endearing. “If it was just about me, I’d let them throw me in jail indefinitely.”
“Sweet sentiment lass but you’d go insane in a prison and beg to be allowed to testify.” He opened her door and smiled down into her eyes. “But I love that you think you would and that you did something so sacrificial for me. I am not ignorant of how much this is costing you personally. Thanks.”
***
Willow expected the deposition to be a lot like her court hearing regarding her birth but it wasn’t anything like that. They sat at a table in a conference room at the courthouse. A young man with a stenograph machine was at one end of the table and Willow sat at the other with the defense attorney on her right and the D.A. on her left.
All feelings of informality disappeared when the D.A. began reciting the purpose of the deposition and the case it related to. The words, “The state vs. Solari” effectively killed the last remnants of her self-possession. Panic rose in her throat leaving bile in its wake. She reached for her tote bag and withdrew a bottle of water.
“May I?”
The D.A. unscrewed the top for her, satisfied that it was untampered with for reasons that Willow couldn’t comprehend. “Certainly.”
“Ok, please state your full name and address for the record.”
“Why my address?”
Willow’s question set the tone for the rest of the deposition. Some questions were indicative of her perception of breached privacy while others were merely curious. The D.A. and defense attorneys were split between irritation and amusement during the entire proceeding.
“You went to his office on what day?”
Willow’s answer was swift. “December 7th.”
“And how are you certain of that date?” The D.A.’s voice sounded bored.
“Because we celebrated my husband’s birthday that evening.”
“Did you make an appointment?”
The questions came in a slow steady pace. Most seemed inconsequential to Willow. Who cared what Steven Solari had done to her? How was that relevant to the case against her grandmother?”
“When did you first speak to Lynne Solari?”
“She came to my house pretending to have a disabled car.”
“Pretending- please define that,” the D.A. requested quickly.
“Actually, she did have a disabled car. She disabled it so she’d have an excuse to come to the house. She admitted it once I confronted her with it.”
“She actually said, ‘Yes, I made this up to come out here?’”
“Not those exact words but very nearly, yes. She apologized and said that she just wanted to see me now that she knew I existed.”
The D.A. nodded as though picturing the scene in her mind. “And when was this?”
“Approximately one week after I went to Mr. Solari’s office.” Weariness grew in Willow’s voice. Her mind was growing muddled.
From questions regarding the attempts to terrorize her to detailed accounts of her every meeting with both of the Solaris, Willow’s memory was tapped with every kind of question. Occasionally, the D. A. would respond with a rebuttal query such as, “Are you aware that Ms. Solari asserts that she did not attempt to deceive you about the reason for her visit?” Willow’s replies were swift and confident. “I think you should question Officer Chad Tesdall as to the accuracy of my statement. I said she confessed her scheme, and she did. He heard the conversation.”
Once the ordeal was over, Willow stood, shook everyone’s hand, and then turned back to the District Attorney. “Ma’am, I have to tell you- I do not want to testify. I can’t imagine how I would be helpful. Please don’t put me in that position.”
As they watched her exit the room, the reporter, the lawyer, and the D.A. all said in unison, “Wow.”
***
Wednesday, Willow woke up vomiting. She barely reached the bathroom floor before she retched uncontrollably. Unable to remember exactly when the last time she’d vomited was, and feeling exceptionally weak, her heart sank. By the time she’d decided to call Marianne for ideas of what to do, another wave of nausea sent her racing for the toilet again.
By the time she’d managed to drag herself downstairs, Ditto was crying for relief. Willow made it to the barn just in time for her to heave into the milk pail. A glance at the phone charger told her Chad had left it beside her bed before he went to work. She didn’t know how she’d get back up those stairs but she had to try.
Another wave of nausea hit in the middle of the yard. She curled into fetal position on the ground, her arms wrapped around the milk pail for dear life and prayed that the Lord would either kill her now or send someone to help. To her utter disgust, she not only lived but no one came until she managed to crawl back upstairs and into bed.
Keeping the milk pail close, and berating herself for not grabbing a clothes pin while in the barn, Willow collapsed on the bed and hit the button to dial Chad. His voicemail irritated her enough that had she had the strength, she’d have thrown the phone through the window. “How did mother handle illness all alone?” she wailed miserably.
The phone rang and Chad’s name flashed across the screen. Just as she clicked it open to answer it, another attack hit her. Chad winced. She was sick. Terribly sick. “You ok?”
“Do I-” she retched once more, “sound ok to you?”
“Oh lass, I’ll get someone to come in for me and be right there.”
“Can you do that?” Willow’s voice sounded doubtful.
“I can do that. Hang in there until I get home.”
Only the sounds of Willow’s illness crossed the airwaves until she finally whimpered, “Hurry- please?”
Chad immediately dialed the Chief. “Sir, I’ve got a problem.”
“Waverly call in sick?” The new officer had called in twice in the past month.
“No. It’s Willow. She’s vomiting and she called for help. I’m sorry sir but she wouldn’t call unless she couldn’t function.”
“Forget that son,” the Chief contradicted, “That woman wouldn’t call unless she was at death’s door. I’ll come in early. You get home.”
Chad was already walking as briskly as possible toward the Police Station. Aiden Cox stared slack-jawed as Chad passed him, sans helmet, on the scooter, again. He tossed the keys at Judith and raced back out the door ignoring her indignant retort.
He heard her before he saw her. How one body could continue to retch the way hers did both amazed and terrified him. “How many times do you think you’ve gotten sick?”
Between dry heaves, Willow gasped, “About five or six when I first got up- it’s all over the bathroom floor. I couldn’t clean-”
“I’ll get it,” he reassured her sounding much more confident than he felt. “Just rest.” Then he saw the milk pail. “If you only got sick five or six times-”
“No, that was just when I got up. Then a half a dozen times in the kitchen, a few times in the barn, and a dozen times or so since I got back upstairs but there’s nothing left. It just keeps trying-” Another wave hit her.
Chad held her head, smoothed her hair, and tried not to lose his own breakfast as he watched her body fight to rid itself of nothing. There was just nothing left. Another whimper escaped. “I begged to die but God rejected my application.”
A low chuckle rumbled over her. “I’m glad He did. I’m very glad He did.”
They talked between waves of nausea. Time passed with aching slowness. Chad didn’t know how he managed to hold back his own gag reflex as she grew sicker and sicker. “What did you eat last?”
“The grilled chicken we had last night, salad, milk, etc.”
“In other words,” he sighed frustrated. “Everything I ate.”
“You don’t feel sick?” She prayed he wouldn’t get it.
“Nope… only when you toss your cookies.”
“But I didn’t eat any cookies.” Confusion in her face was so comical, Chad burst out laughing.
“It isn’t funny-” she began before another wave of dry heaves attacked. As she fought to gain control, an idea hit Chad.
“When was your last period?”
“What?” she gasped between heaves.
“Your ‘monthly’. When was your last-”
“I-” she took deep breaths trying to control the deep urge to hurl once more. “I can’t remember for sure. I think I was due last week though.”
“I think you’re pregnant. Morning sickness. I’ll get you some water and then drive into town for some crackers. I think that’s what women eat. I’ll call mom.”
Willow turned the most disgusting shade of green. “Pregnant?”
“It makes sense. You’re late, you’re puking-”
“You puke?”
Chad shook his head at her. “Surely you’ve heard or read of morning sickness.”
“Yeah,” she whimpered. “I just thought it was fatigue and swelling or something. Animals don’t vomit.” There was the merest trace of indignation in her weakened voice. “I’m thirsty but I’m terrified to try to drink.”
He brought her a glass of water and suggested she rinse her mouth with it. “Spit it back out. Don’t swallow. At least you’ve moistened things. Then if you feel brave, take tiny sips while I’m gone. I’ll be right back.”
With the gentlest kiss to the top of her head, Chad raced down the stairs, out the door and then stopped. He thought he heard her voice. Uncertain, he retreated back into the house, up the stairs, and paused in the doorway. “Did you call me?”
“Ditto,” she wailed. “That poor goat- the chickens-”
“I’ll get them when I get back.”
“I feel a tiny bit better. Get them now.” Willow’s eyes pleaded as she spoke.
“I’ll get ‘em lass and then I’ll check on you before I go.”
“Thanks.”
In the barn, Chad grabbed a pail and raced to Ditto’s stall. Without pausing to wash the teats, he milked the goat in record time earning him a few butts and a kick but Chad hardly noticed. In the summer kitchen, he realized that the milk was contaminated. They couldn’t drink it. He started to pour it down the drain and then thought of the soap. Maybe it could be saved for soap.
The stove was empty. No boiling water waited for him to scald the pail. With a sigh of frustration, he grabbed a kitchen towel, tossed it over the pail, and forced it into the fridge. He’d deal with it all later.
Willow slept with one arm curled around her pail by the time he climbed the stairs once more. He paused. Should he rinse it and clean up the bathroom before he went to town or after? The stench in the room was growing. He slipped the pail from her arm and took it to the bathtub trying not to breathe as he stepped over the mess on the floor. Once clean and free of odor, he stepped out of the bathroom, closed the door, and replaced the pail back in the crook of her arm. With her door shut and the bathroom door shut, the air in the room smelled reasonably fresh again.
Chad raced back downstairs to his truck. Guilt tried to worm its way into his heart but his excitement was too acute to be abated. Pregnant! A baby! Chad couldn’t believe how blessed he was. A wife and a child all within a month! Well, he had a few more months of course, but still! They were going to have a baby.
At the end of the driveway, he braked hard. Pulling out his phone, he dialed home. “Mom? What do you give a vomiting woman for morning sickness?”
“Well, saltines are good, and broth- wait, did you say morning sickness?”
“Yes! Willow woke up puking and we just realized, she’s a week late!” The pride and excitement in Chad’s voice thundered through the airwaves and hovered in Marianne’s heart.
“How bad is it?”
“She’s resting now but she spent a long time emptying a very empty stomach. I need to get something in her that’ll stay.”
“Get some Jell-o too. It’s gentle and it’s comfort food. Oh, and 7-Up. Don’t get Sprite or Slice, get 7-Up. It just works.”
“I like Sprite,” Chad contradicted.
“Get her-”
Chad’s laughter interrupted. “7-Up. I got it. Anything else?”
“A pregnancy test. You’ll want to be sure.”
He leaned his forehead against the steering wheel. “Is it important today?”
“Well, I know I’d want one as soon as possible just to rule out something like food poisoning. I mean, she’s late so it’s pretty much a given but it can’t hurt-”
“I have to go to Brunswick then. It’s twice as far both ways.” Chad’s voice sounded uncertain.
“Why?”
“Mom! This is Fairbury. If I buy a pregnancy test in town, they’ll have her baby shower planned before she pees on the stick!”
“I’m surprised they carry them then,” Marianne retorted dryly.
“You’re right. I bet they don’t. Good thinking. Gotta go mom, I need to be back before she wakes up puking again.”
While Marianne smiled to herself and blithely punched the numbers to her husband’s store, Chad tore down the highway toward Brunswick praying that he wouldn’t meet Joe returning from a transfer. No luck. Just as he rounded the bend where he’d totaled the cruiser months earlier, he passed Joe and waved.
Within seconds, Joe was behind him lights flashing. Chad waved his arm out the window but Joe kept coming. Finally, Chad pulled over and pounded the steering wheel. Joe reached the window by the time Chad managed to keep his hands gripped to the wheel instead of trying to pulverize it.
“Hey Joe, I know. Give me a ticket and let me out of here.”
“What- Chad! You’re supposed to be on beat!” Joe was not amused.
“I need to get stuff for Willow. She’s sick and I need the pharmacy.”
Joe flipped his ticket book shut. “Keep it to a reasonable level man. She needs you to get back too.”
“You’re right.” Chad hesitated. He felt almost obligated to explain his mission but he didn’t want the news all over town before he could enjoy it with his wife for just a little while.
“Hey, I’ll be praying for her. Do you guys know what is wrong?”
“Yeah, we think so but we need to be sure. See you later. If you change your mind, I’ll sign a ticket when I get back to work. Thanks Joe.” Without another word, Chad punched the automatic window button, turned on the key, and once Joe stepped away from his truck, eased onto the highway and drove the rest of the way just barely over the speed limit.
***
Willow awoke feeling weak, hungry, nauseas, and with the terrible urge to use the bathroom. Unsteady on her feet, she grasped the bed and dresser with one hand while clutching her milk pail with the other. A glance inside surprised her. It was clean. It didn’t smell.
A smile spread across her face. “He cleaned up for me. What a man.”
She stood confused at the closed bathroom door. Why was the door closed? Willow knocked. She rattled the knob. Finally as cautiously as she could, she pushed it open calling for Chad. Silence greeted her. She took a step forward, she froze mid-air as she realized her mistake. Her foot slid through the previous contents of her stomach sending her careening across the bathroom. She slammed into the edge of the tub and groaned.
“Ow!” Tears sprang to her eyes as her head impacted with the cast iron. “Oh man.” The room spun, her hand groped for the milk pail and grabbed it just in time.
Sounds of feet on the stairs sent her into fresh tears. “Chad?”
Chad, hearing he commotion upstairs, had dropped his bags just inside the front door and bolted upstairs. The sight of Willow sprawled across the vomit streaked bathroom floor holding her head in one hand and her bucket in the other made him wince. “Oh lass, I’m so sorry. I almost cleaned it up and then I thought I could get back faster and clean it even if you were awake. I-”
“I’m coated and it’s making me feel worse.”
Chad grabbed two towels and mopped up the worst of it. Quickly he helped her out of her sodden pajamas and into the tub. While she soaked with bucket in hand, he raced downstairs with the stinky laundry gagging any time he was forced to take a breath. He tossed the towels in the washer, dumped a scoop of dripping laundry soap into the machine, turned it on ‘normal wash’, smelled his shirt, peeled it off, and raced back inside.
Willow was almost asleep by the time the tub filled. He brought her water, crackers, and sat on the floor beside the tub wishing he’d thought to buy some ammonia. “Bleach! That’s what the floor needs. Bleach. Be right back.”
All morning and into the early afternoon, Chad brought her something to drink, something to munch on, dumped her milk pail, and then sat beside her on the bed stroking her hair and praying for her. As the day passed, he grew worried. What would they do if every day was this bad? What if it kept going for several weeks or even the whole time? He’d heard of that.
His phone vibrated in his pocket sending him downstairs quickly to answer it. “Mom?”
“How is she doing?”
“Better, I think. She’s kept down her last few crackers and the Jell-o. The broth was a nightmare.”
“Does sound like it- did you get a test?” Marianne tried not to sound as eager as she felt.
“Got a test but we haven’t taken it yet. We’ve been talking. She’s so excited mom.”
Marianne’s sigh filled both their hearts with delight. “I’m going to be a grandmother! Isn’t she going to be the cutest pregnant mother ever?”
“Mom, you are a grandmother- you’ll just have to wait to meet your grand-something.”
“Child. It’s called a child, Chaddie. Oh, do you want a boy or a girl?” Her excitement was infectious.
“Both?” He laughed with her. “Actually, whichever is most likely easier for a first baby.” He tried to do the math and couldn’t think. “When do you think the baby is likely coming?”
Murmuring as she counted, Marianne finally said, “Mid February to the first of March I think.”
“Oh a Valentine’s Day baby! How fun!”
“Or if she goes overdue, you could be talking St. Paddy’s Day.”
“That’s forever.”
Her laughter turned to howls. “Son, you sound about six years old.”
Willow stirred. “Gotta go mom, she’s waking up. I’ll call when the test is done. Can you scout around for doctors in Brunswick?”
He whispered his love, and then hurried to Willow’s side. “How are you feeling?”
“Weak, thirsty, and hungry.”
“How’s the nausea.”
She shrugged. “I can tell it was there but I think it’s gone.”
“Well,” he chuckled, “I hope you don’t have it that bad every day.”
She stared at him in horror. “Every day?”
“Some women-” he didn’t have the heart to tell her. “Have it more than others.”
“I’d better be done.” The finality in her voice was comical.
“Mom is calling around for a doctor. If it keeps up, they have medications that can help.”
Willow didn’t answer. She was already asleep. Frustrated, Chad carried the box of pregnancy tests back to the bathroom, opened it, and placed one wrapped test on the back of the toilet. He stood in the doorway, hands stuffed in his pockets, and stared at it. Finally, he forced himself to go downstairs. “You’re acting like an idiot man. Go feed the chickens and get eggs-” The thought of eggs made him smile. First baby chicks and now baby humans. They’d have to start breeding goats, cows, and sheep next.
His eyes widened at the direction of his thoughts. “Oh ick. I’m not going there. We’ll stick to breeding humans. Wait-” Chad shook his head. “That sounds even worse.”
Josh arrived at nine thirty-five. Willow attempted to stifle guffaws as he confessed that he’d driven to Brunswick and back before he decided that wasting gas was not worth the salve to his pride. “Well, come in. I’ve got bread baking.”
“That’s what smells so good- hey, I have a question for you.”
“Shoot.”
“Do I have to confess to Chad that I showed flagrant disregard for the speed limit on my way here?”
Willow’s grin embarrassed him. “Not unless he asks…”
“I like you.”
She shook her head. “I think you have other females in mind.”
“I was thinking about her last night. I can’t believe I didn’t realize it but I’ve seen her. She works in the kitchen on Sundays after church. I’ve seen her when I escort the kids to the dining hall for lunch.”
“Well,” Willow said smiling. “I think you should go out and take her for a walk. I’m stuck here and apparently she’s here early.”
Josh hurried from the house and almost reached Becca’s car in time to open the door. “I’ll have to be faster next time.”
“You’re here! I thought-”
“They invited me back and well I-” Josh hesitated. How do you tell someone you’ve barely met that you drove back at break-neck speed in order to see you again without sounding desperately pathetic.
“I’m glad you came.” The words were whispered and the look on her face was pained.
“What’s wrong?”
“Maybe I can explain later. I should go in-” Becca gestured toward the kitchen as if to say, “don’t you want to come in too?”
“Actually, Willow suggested we take a walk. Something about her bread.”
They started toward the field where Dinner the Second and the sheep grazed. He didn’t care to admit it, but the sight of the large animals unnerved him. “How dangerous are cows anyway?”
“Willow says they’re safe. They pretty much leave everyone alone but we only have to cross that corner. We could run for it before they got to us if we had to.” Becca’s voice held a trace of mirth.
“Stop laughing at me. I’ve never been around big game-”
“I’m pretty sure sheep aren’t considered big game.”
Once near the stream, the couple continued to amble along the banks, rarely speaking but communicating much. Finally, Josh’s curiosity overcame him and he sat down in the grassy shade of a tree. “Ok, so you said you’d tell me what’s wrong.”
“Do you know why I’m here- who I am visiting?”
“No, you- no one ever said.”
Blushing, Becca made herself comfortable against the trunk of the tree facing Josh. “It’s kind of a church sponsored ‘Bachelor’. I’m here for a month to see if the guy is the one for me.”
Josh took in her words cautiously. It sounded surreal and far-fetched. “As in like the TV show with a dozen half-dressed women and hot tub orgies?”
“No!” Becca’s face flamed even deeper scarlet. “Nothing like that. We have a chaperone- my Gran actually, and he’s kept himself physically respectful. Well, that sounds wrong. He’s been a perfect gentleman in every sense of the word.”
“So you stay for a month, and then what?”
“I go home. Actually, I go home on Friday.”
Josh didn’t miss the relief in her voice. “Not working out?”
“Well, actually, before yesterday, I would have said it was going well. Now I’m all confused.”
“Did something go wrong?” Josh’s mind tried not to pray, “Please say yes.”
“I met someone else.” Becca’s voice was such a quiet miserable whisper that Josh wasn’t sure he’d heard her right.
“You met someone else?”
“I’m not an idiot,” she mentally retorted hotly. “I can sense attraction just as easily as the next woman!” Aloud, she simply nodded saying, “Mmm hmm.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t know.” Disappointment filled her tone. “I don’t want to be foolish and waste what really was the most wonderful month of my life but how do you ignore strong attraction for someone else?”
“Strong attraction eh?” Josh’s voice sounded nearly giddy and his lisp grew more pronounced.
“You’re not helping.”
“So what’s the real question?”
Her shoulders slumped. “What would you think about a woman who invests herself in one man for a month and is ready to turn her back on all that work in a relationship after just a few hours with someone else?”
“What kind of commitment did you make?”
“To come, get to know him, and decide if I want to continue talking to him after I leave. If he asks, I say yes or no.”
A grin split Josh’s face. “So, in other words, this is like a really long blind date with no expectations, just hopes.”
“That’s one way to put it.” She waited impatiently for him to answer and then urged again, “So what would you think if you were a guy who spent a month with a woman and she turned you down at the end because she thinks another guy is interesting.”
“Well, now that I know there is no real commitment, I hope I’d be happy for her.”
“But once she walked, that’d be the end of it,” she said for him. “You wouldn’t take a chance on her if something went wrong later with the other guy.”
“Depends on how much I liked her. I’d rather her find out just how interested you are in him before you invested more in me and then realized after a long time that you were still into someone else.”
“This went from she to me awfully quickly,” Becca joked. “So, am I being way premature?”
Josh studied his hands. The action left Becca feeling foolish. Of course she was being premature. He had hardly shown any interest- she felt it, of course, but it could mean anything and Josh might not be ready for that kind of change in his life.
“I asked you out already, if you remember.”
“That’s no answer.” A wave of irritation sent an unintentional bite to her words. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.”
“I don’t want to interfere in your-” Josh searched for a word, “thing but…”
“But what?” A new thought occurred to her. “Is it possible that you’re not ready? I mean, I totally understand-”
“I wasn’t until yesterday. If you had asked me, I would have been adamant- no romantic entanglements. Period.” A smile grew slowly across his features. “But I was wrong.”
“Were you?” A grin grew until her eyes fairly sparkled.
“What is this guy like?”
“Everything I ever thought I wanted in a husband and more.”
“But you are willing to risk throwing it away on someone you have only spent an afternoon with?”
“I’m unwilling to risk that I throw away what I’ve been hoping for on the wrong man.”
***
Chad arrived at two o’clock and found his wife and guests laughing at her attempts to work the spinning wheel. Her hands worked to hold the wool, pull, and still work the treadle. Clumps had slowly diminished and now she had thick yarn with occasional clumps. Splicing the yarn was trickier. Becca and Josh spent half of their carding time giggling over the quirky way Willow stuck her tongue out of the corner of her mouth as she tried to twist the fibers back into the broken yarn as yet another piece broke.
So concentrated was Willow on her work, she didn’t hear Portia yapping happily, the screen door slam against the doorjamb, or the titters of Josh and Becca at the look of amazement on Chad’s face.
He bent low near her ear and murmured, “How are you doing lass?”
Willow jumped, her hand flying into the air and whacking Chad’s chin as she did. “You scared me!”
“Well, I made enough noise coming in…”
She put down her wool, stood from the wheel, and moved to make him a sandwich and reheat a bowl of soup. Chad’s face furrowed in concern as he noticed a slight limp in her step. He pointed at the wheel. “How long has she been using that thing?”
“Only since around eleven or so. Is there a problem?” Chad’s face left Becca feeling concerned as well.
“She over did it- repetitive motion. Her muscles and nerves are probably killing her.”
“Why-”
“Accident last summer. She spent a lot of time in therapy and I’m guessing that motion isn’t one she practiced.”
He left them staring slack jawed at him and went to bully his wife into a chair while he fixed his own sandwich. “Lass, I’ve got it. Sit.”
“I’m fi-”
“You are not. Your leg is killing you, I can see it.”
Willow shook her head protesting. “It’s just unused muscles. I’m fine.”
“I can see pain in your eyes lass. Rest. I’ll rub that calf as soon as I get some food in me.”
The front screen creaked and then banged shut. Willow retrieved the oil can from the pantry and walked to the living room before Chad could stop her. Within seconds, the screen no longer squeaked. He tried not to let his frustration show. He relied on that squeak to let him know where she was and what she was doing.
“How are things going with those two?”
She gave him a smile he usually only saw in the most intimate of moments. “Do you think she’ll let me make her dress? I’d love to try to make a wedding dress.”
“Seriously? You think-”
“They remind me of us- but different. There’s this electricity in the room whenever they’re there. I don’t know how else to describe it.” She paused trying to find words she couldn’t imagine. “Like- like- you know, when you shuffle across the house in your socks in winter and then touch the doorknob. That-”
“Static electricity.”
“Yes!” she exclaimed relieved. “That’s what I mean. It’s in there, with them, all the time. It’s fascinating.”
Chad didn’t want to disappoint her but he could see her building romantic hopes for her new friends and didn’t want to see her hurt. “You know, sometimes that’s all there is- it’s called attraction, infatuation. It doesn’t always grow into anything more substantial.”
She nodded sagely. “I can see that. Endorphins. That’s what Mother called them. She said that they controlled happiness, crushes, and something else. I can’t remember.”
“Crushes?”
“It was when I went nuts for Bill that year when I was fifteen. She explained it all and I saw that it was just a natural chemical reaction that God built into-”
“Enough. I can’t stand to hear it,” Chad said wearily. “Your mother was so amazing in almost every area of her life but when it came to male-female relationships, she knew how to strip the God-given joy out of things.”
“Well,” she retorted giving him a playful look that he recognized all too well. “I learned a lot from her but I’ve had other teachers in my life too as you well know.”
“Just give me that calf and let me try to work out the kinks before it turns into a sore mess and a Charlie horse,” he growled.
“Oh, my leg isn’t kinky. Not at all. It’s just tired.”
Chad rolled his eyes heavenward and shrugged at the Lord. “What can I say, Lord. What can I say?”
***
After dinner, Chad brought up the mail. In it was a large package from Boho full of fabrics for the following spring. “They sent you more fabric? Didn’t you just finish with fall?”
“Lee says that they’re trying to get on a normal schedule. Apparently they try to be a full year ahead of current time. If they’re selling spring/summer now, they want spring/summer done for next year too.”
Before Chad could give his idea on that score, the sound of tires crunching in the yard interrupted them. He glanced out the window and groaned. “Adric and Becca are here.”
“Wha-”
“I think Becca needs some advice and from what I can see, Adric looks a little lost.” Chad tugged gently on Willow’s braid bring her eyes to meet his. “I’ll take him if you can handle her.”
“It’s a deal. Oh, and I intend to do some crying later. I feel it already. Thought you should know.”
“Dully warned milady,” Chad acknowledged with a goofy sweeping bow.
“That’s lass and don’t you forget it.”
“Yes’m- Hey Adric. Good to see you guys!”
Adric opened the door for Becca and ushered her inside. “Becca needed-”
Before Adric could finish, Becca with tears streaming down her face, rushed at Willow and threw her arms around her. “I’m so confused.”
“Come on Adric, why don’t we go take a walk and let the women talk.”
Willow, not knowing what else to do, led Becca to the couch, wrapped her arms around the weeping woman, and just held her. The minutes ticked by until finally Becca quieted to an occasional sniffle. Willow reached around her and handed her a box of Kleenex.”
“I thought-” Becca sniffed again, “I would have assumed you’d be big on handkerchiefs.”
“I am. Chad isn’t. He compromised a lot to move here… you know, no electricity, lots of hard work, goat milk which he hates but drinks because he doesn’t want to hurt my feelings…”
“He hates the milk?”
“From the faces he makes when he doesn’t have his guard up, he hates it. Doesn’t mind the butter, cheese, yogurt, or ice cream but the milk…”
Becca gave a half-hearted laugh. “That’s funny.”
“Something isn’t funny in your life. Am I crazy to suspect it has to do with Josh and Adric?”
Becca’s eyes filled with fresh tears. “Am I insane? What is wrong with me? I have a wonderful man who is genuinely interested in me. He’s everything I ever wanted. He has invested in me this month and I know he’s going to want to keep corresponding…”
“But you find Josh attractive.”
“I find Josh attractive,” she admitted. “What do I do?”
“In five years, if you are married to Adric and things are going badly for whatever reason, will you wonder and regret not at least seeing if there was anything to consider with Josh?”
Willow’s question wasn’t what Becca expected but immediately, it gave her the answer she needed. “I’d regret it before trouble hit if I couldn’t stop thinking about him.”
“If Adric is the reasonable man that I think he is, he’ll understand. He’ll be hurt- he might not even realize he’ll understand, but he will. If you spent time with Josh for six months and then decided he wasn’t for you and Adric still hadn’t found the right woman, I think if you contacted him, he’d be willing to at least meet to discuss it.”
“But isn’t that kind of using him?” Becca’s pleasing tendencies were tearing her apart.
“Not if he knows up front. Not if you don’t string him along while you get to know Josh. From the way you’ve described it, he’ll ask to continue correspondence, and you can choose yes or no. Tell him no and tell him why. He’ll know you won’t be playing with fire while pouring water on it at the same time.”
A strange look filled Becca’s face. “I have no idea what that means but I get the gist. I think.”
***
“Something’s wrong Chad, I can sense it. I’m not the most intuitive man but it doesn’t take one to see the difference in the past two days.”
“This is a difficult process Adric. I imagine for women, it is even more difficult- all those emotions…”
“I know it’s crazy, but I started to care. I’m not head over heels but-”
“I know exactly what you mean. It’s what I felt for about two or three weeks before I fell in love with Willow.”
“When did you know?” Adric’s voice seemed simultaneously resigned but curious.
“The Friday before the wedding when you came over to talk to her about the property situation.”
“Huh?”
Chad grimaced. He still felt foolish over his illogical flash of jealousy. “You were out here talking to her and she was so concerned about you, your situation- I watched the two of you and I’m not stupid, she’s an appealing woman.”
“So jealousy pushed you over the edge?” Adric’s voice was filled with amazement.
“Something like that.”
“I’m sure you know- I mean I hope you know that I’d never-” The thought was repulsive to him no matter how much he admired Willow Tesdall.
“I knew. I just realized at that moment that my irritation with a pesky woman that had grown into brotherly affection had moved beyond tentative caring and into a love I cannot describe but am thrilled to have.”
“That’s what I keep waiting for but I’m not so sure-”
“I don’t know,” Chad began hesitantly, “if it’s the right thing to wait for or not. I just don’t know. I do know that we would have had a glorious life if neither of us ever lost our heart completely. You don’t need it to be truly happy. I’m just blessed that I have it.”
Adric kicked at the dirt for a minute and then told Chad about a man he’d met in Ferndale. “Allison, from April, she took me to her Saturday morning Bible study and there was this man there- Silas.” He paused remembering the story and amazed at how much he desired what Silas had while thinking the man was crazy.
“Silas met this girl- a lot younger than him. Not just in years but maturity wise, you know? She’s so far beneath him it’s not funny but he loves her. I’ve never seen anything like it. She left him, he took her back. She goes out with other men, he waits. Until the day she marries someone else, he’ll never quit hoping and trying.”
“And you wonder if that’s rare or worth holding out for.” It wasn’t a question. Chad understood the appeal a picture like that would give but he couldn’t encourage his new friend to toss aside the chance at a good life in order to hold out for something that while appealing, could potentially destroy him.
“I don’t know if Becca is the one for you or not. I do know, that if she is, or if this Allison is, or any of the other women you’ve met, it won’t be just because you can’t stand not being with her. I think that’s probably a little rare- especially for a man.”
Adric nodded. “You’re right. It was so amazing to watch but-”
“I will say that I’d rather marry someone I know I can trust, respect, and enjoy spending my time with even if I didn’t have the crazy mixed up love for them that I have for Willow, than to marry someone who after twenty years, makes me wish it was over rather than wish for another twenty.”
They wandered through the greenhouse, out to the gardens, over to the pasture where the sheep were enjoying an evening trough of liquid refreshment, and then back toward the house. As they neared, Adric paused his jaw working so much that his teeth ground together mercilessly. “Do you think Becca is going to turn me down?”
“For what, marriage?”
“No, to keep corresponding. Something is wrong. I’d just like to know what I did wrong.”
Chad chose his words carefully. “I don’t know that you did anything wrong, man. Even if she isn’t the woman for you, aren’t you glad you had a month with her?”
“I am but-”
“Then be thankful for your month and forget about what you can’t control. Trust the Lord in this one. Trust him.”
“You’ve got to be a good ten years younger than me, Chad. I’d give anything for that kind of faith.” The exhaustion in Adric’s voice was very telling.
“You have it. You’re just weary. Rest in the only One who can give you true rest as your brother-in-law always tells us.”
As Adric and Becca drove away, Chad and Willow waved from the front porch. “Is she going to turn him down?”
“Yes.” Regret hovered around Willow’s single word.
“He’s going to be so disappointed.”
“I wonder if she knows that Josh switched work days with one of the ladies from the store.”
Oh my word… I read all the entries, loved every one, I was torn for ages, but then… today… I read the latest.
Michele- your story of milking that cow. I can so see Kari doing that! I can see her ready to kill the goat. I can just see it. And of course, then to get disgusted using her hard work and pain to make soap…
I have to choose that one. I can see it in my mind.
Congratulations and I’ll order those for you next week!c
Willow pounded beef while Becca stirred the sauce on the stove. “Now when those flavors taste right, let me know.”
“What is the purpose of the beef again?” Becca had never heard of ‘pizza’ like this.
“Well, the first pizza Chad bought me was mostly bread with a little sauce and a lot of cheese. Almost no meat. Nothing to stick to your ribs until the next meal so I put a thin slice of beef over the bread before I start the sauce.”
“Have you thought about Italian sausage instead of beef?”
Shaking a bottle of olive oil, Willow shrugged. “I’ve never had Italian sausage but Chad bought me this olive oil. He says it’ll taste better on the bread than the butter.”
Chad entered the kitchen with a basket of greens and a few well ripened tomatoes. “I didn’t remember if you wanted the green onions or not.”
“Yes. But if you didn’t get them, don’t worry about it. It’ll be fine without them.”
He held up a bunch triumphantly. “Score! I remembered it all then.”
“I can’t believe you guys have ripe tomatoes from a garden!”
“Greenhouse,” Willow corrected. “Now that I have the greenhouse, I can have ripe tomatoes all year.”
Beef pounded, Willow scrubbed her hands and then began washing the lettuce. “Is this lettuce from the garden?”
“Well, it looked ready, why?”
“Loopers. I’ve got to get out there and soap them before we get eggs. I’ll do that before dinner.” Willow quit rinsing the greens and immediately left for the barn.
“Loopers. What are they?”
Chad shrugged and started washing the leaves looking for whatever had bothered Willow. “Becca, your guess is as good as mine. Apparently it’s something we don’t want in the garden though.”
Willow arrived with a large spray bottle and filled it as Chad washed. Then she dropped a large squirt of dish soap in the container and shook it vigorously. “Don’t let me forget Chad.”
“Why not do it now?”
“Best to do first thing in the morning or late afternoon. That’s when the obnoxious critters are out.”
Becca and Chad exchanged confused and amused glances. Willow took the scrubbed greens, tore them expertly and filled a large wooden salad bowl with them. Deftly, she chopped tomatoes, onions, radishes, and cucumbers. Before she could ask Chad for the croutons she’d made at breakfast, a car crunched in the driveway.
“I think Josh is here. Why don’t you go get him?” Willow waved him out the door and pointed to a bowl on the top of the stove. “Becca, can I have that bowl please?”
By the time Chad ushered Josh into the kitchen, Willow and Becca were assembling the modified pizzas and ready to pop them into the oven. Willow noticed beads of perspiration on Chad’s forehead and a growing line of them across Josh’s upper lip and groaned inwardly. It might be time to either cook in the summer kitchen or put a table into the part of the living room designed as a dining room.
“Chad, why don’t you go get one of those tables and some of the chairs from the barn and put it on the back porch. We can eat out there where it’s cooler.”
The look of relief in Chad’s eyes told Willow she’d made the right move. “I’ll do that. First though, Josh, this is Becca Jacobs. She’s here visiting a friend on the farm that backs ours.”
Becca rinsed her hands, dried them on her apron, and turned to greet Josh. Surprise filled her eyes as she absorbed his appearance. If she didn’t know better- Embarrassment flooded her features. “Oh, I’m sorry.” She extended her hand smiling. “It’s very nice to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you too.” Josh looked at their hands, his feet, back over at Willow- anything to avoid meeting Becca’s eyes. She assumed-
“Hey Josh, mind giving me a hand with the chairs?”
Once the men were outside, Becca turned to Willow, confused. “I didn’t expect your friend to be-”
“He’s a little girly, isn’t he? Chad said something about him being more like my friend Bill than the Tesdalls. Bill is kind of a sissy when it comes to the farm and Josh is too.”
That wasn’t what Becca meant but watching her new friend, Becca realized that Willow had no idea the impression Josh gave others. Thinking of the life Willow had led, Becca wondered if she had any idea men like Josh existed. “Where did you meet Josh?”
“He was the one who helped me find the fabrics for the wedding. He has amazing fabric and fashion sense. I thought it was odd at first but then I remembered mother talking about men like Monsieur Worth and more recently Christian Dior and I realized that men have always been interested in women’s fashions and things.”
Willow had a point. Maybe Josh was just- Feeling foolish, Becca shook her head. This wasn’t any of her business. She’d pray for Josh that no matter what his station in life, Jesus would be the center. Outside of that, nothing mattered to her when she’d likely never see him again. A voice from the doorway startled them both.
“Thanks Willow. Not everyone understands that.”
“Oh, Josh-” Becca blushed furiously. “I had no business discussing you like that. Willow didn’t bring it up-”
“I don’t mind. People tend to find me a bit of an enigma. I’m not what they thing-” he paused letting the words sink in and register. “-and I’m not like a lot of other men so they don’t know how to categorize me.”
“Well,” Willow said testily. “Perhaps people should quit trying to categorize everyone in the first place.”
“Perhaps,” agreed Josh and Becca in unison. Josh continued with an embarrassed grin. “But it’s natural to want to know where you stand in relation to everyone else so you categorize. It’s just human nature.”
Willow slid the pizzas from the oven and arranged them on a platter. “Ok, time to eat.” With apron tossed onto the counter, she grabbed the platter and salad bowl nodding at plates and silverware. “Can you guys grab those?”
Lunch was an interesting occasion. Chad and Willow watched the constant sparring and discussion between Josh and Becca with amused interest. He knew that Willow was missing the attraction steadily growing between their guests and wondered what she’d say when he told her. This was going to be a crazy day.
“So, we were going to try to card wool today,” Willow began after everyone declared themselves over-full. “What do you think Josh- too crafty for you?” An excited look grew in her eyes. “You and Chad could go out with the paintball guns!”
“I think-” Josh began giving Becca and Chad amused glances that left Willow in a state of utter confusion. “I think I’d rather see how wool carding works.”
Willow jumped from the table eagerly. “Let’s get the dishes-”
“I’ll do them Willow, you guys go get your wool stuff and have at it.” Chad kissed her cheek and pushed her toward the door. “Go woman!”
“I’m under orders I guess.”
While Chad washed dishes, cleaned the kitchen, and pulled the chicken from the ice box readying it for a slow roast on the grill, Willow, Josh, and Becca congregated in the living room. She passed out towels, handed everyone a wad of washed fleece and referred to her notes. “Ok, it says pull the locks from the fleece. You’re supposed to separate them into individual locks that aren’t interlocked with the rest of the fleece I guess.”
They all worked for a little while until Willow thought she had a large enough pile on the coffee table. “Ok. Who wants to keep separating?”
Josh insisted he do it. “I can’t mess this up. You guys do whatever you need to do.”
“Ok Becca, now we take these locks and we separate them. The instructions say to pull them apart sideways. We’re supposed to discard any really short pieces or if there is any left over dirt or debris.”
“I can’t believe you’re just doing this without any kind of instruction.” Becca’s voice was heavy with admiration. “I’d be afraid of ruining an expensive fleece!”
“This is how the Finley women learned everything,” Chad called from the kitchen. “If they don’t already know it instinctively, they just teach themselves.”
Willow shrugged. It made sense to her. She couldn’t understand why anyone would refrain from doing something just because they didn’t know how. If everyone did that, no one would learn anything. Seeing them waiting for her reply, she said as much.
“Wow.”
Josh grinned at Becca’s response. “I’ve come to the conclusion that ‘wow’ must be the most commonly used word around Willow.”
“Got that right!” Chad’s voice boomed from the kitchen.
“You oughtta know!” Josh shouted back winking at Becca.
Something in Josh’s eyes unsettled Becca’s stomach. Hastily, she turned the conversation, much to Willow’s relief, back to the subject of wool. “So now we just separate all of these?”
“Yep. Once we get enough, I’ll play with the card paddles. I got two sets because I thought Chad would be helping.” Her words grew louder as she teased her absent husband.
“A guy offers to clean the kitchen and all he gets is complaints, complaints, complaints,” came his voice from the kitchen.
Becca and Josh exchanged wistful looks as Willow jumped and dropped the wool she was separating. She raced to the kitchen where it was obvious, even from the living room, that a serious tickle fest was in full swing. “Can you believe how amazingly happy they are?”
Josh shook his head. “By the time I got done helping her that day in the store, I was really wishing he’d dump her at the altar and she’d try to return the fabric. Man I wanted to ask her out.”
“Really?” This confirmed his inference during lunch but left her more confused than ever.
“What guy wouldn’t want to get to know someone like Willow?”
She hesitated and then risked it. “A guy who was concerned she’d take his interest the wrong way.”
“Well, that guy wasn’t me. I was interested all right but once I met Chad- I knew. He’s perfect for her. Drat it all.”
Josh watched as she carefully separated lock after lock, ignoring the banging of the screen door and the squeals that were now racing around the house outside. “So they said you’re visiting a friend here. Where are you from?”
“Rockland.”
“Really? Wow. What part?”
“Old residential on the south side. Near Madison Park.”
Josh’s eyes lit up. “Really? I’m not too far from there. I moved back in with my parents after-” He hesitated. Would he wipe that spark of interest from Becca’s eyes if he were honest? Then again, at some point she’d have to know. “After I escaped a lifestyle that I shouldn’t have ever let myself be introduced to.”
“I wondered,” she admitted quietly.
“I know. You were more tactful than most. I appreciate it.”
Becca struggled with unasked questions until Josh assured her he didn’t mind if she asked them. “I really only have one but it’s just none of my business.”
“Assume it is and just ask.”
“How did you get out? I mean, if you didn’t want in in the first place-”
“I felt trapped, and then once in, I felt even more trapped than ever. Then I met Barney- he’s the pastor-”
“Barney! He’s my pastor! You go to the mission?” Becca’s surprise was mirrored in Josh’s face.
“I don’t believe this. I’ve never seen you there!”
Chad and Willow stood outside the screen door hesitant to stand there and listen but even more hesitant to interrupt the conversation within. Finally, Chad led her away from the door, down the steps, and around the barn to the tree swing. “Let them talk. I think something is there.”
“Something?”
“He’s interested and she’s not immune to it.”
Willow’s eyes widened in horror. “But Adric-”
“She has no obligation Willow. Would you want her to choose Adric over someone she prefers just because she signed up to get to know him?”
Sighing, Willow shook her head and jumped on the swing. “No. I just don’t want to see anyone get hurt.”
“Someone is going to get hurt. Before all of this girl-of-the-month stuff is over, someone will get hurt. There’s no way to avoid it.”
“Then why do it Chad? Why put people through that?”
“Everyone is willing to risk it on the chance that they meet the right person.” He hesitated. Willow came from such a different worldview than he did. Would she understand? “Lass, I would have probably tried something like that eventually- if the opportunity arose. I’m not an outgoing person. I’d had so much trouble with girls already that having someone pre-screen, having recommendations from their pastors-” he shrugged. I think at Adric’s age especially, I’d have done it in a heartbeat.”
“So are Josh and Becca just interested because they have things in common- church and stuff, or is there something else there that I’m missing.”
Chad smiled as he pushed her higher. “Get ready for a very confused young woman. There’s more to it than that. She’s so concerned with making everyone happy- this is going to tear her up.”
***
By three o’clock, Becca and Willow carded swiftly and comfortably. Chad and Josh spent their time pulling locks, separating them, and joking about everything from Willow’s naïveté to the natural way Becca took to Willow’s lifestyle. Willow and Becca occasionally sent balls of wool in their direction as if wool fluff could possibly stop the barrage of jokes and teasing.
The wool flying through the air reminded Willow of North and South. “‘I have seen hell and it is white. It is snow white.’”
“What?” Becca looked at Chad like Willow had lost her mind.
“It’s from a movie my mom got her.” An impish glint filled Chad’s eyes. “She loves that movie- she really loves the ending best though.”
“Civil war?”
“Oh no!” Willow protested. “Northern vs. Southern England- not the War Between the States.”
“Did England have a Civil War too?” Becca’s eyes grew wide.
“Cromwell in the mid-sixteen hundreds. But technically the United States-”
Chad interrupted. Debate over historical semantics was not likely to be a popular topic of discussion. “It’s about the difference between agricultural southern England with its gentility and proximity to London verses the northern industrial cities like Manchester.”
“Sounds an awfully lot like the United States.” Josh’s surprise was echoed by Becca’s nod.
“Well, there are similarities of course, but the British class system was much more ingrained so there were deeper clashes than you found over here,” Willow explained. “The movie is amazing. You see the strengths and weaknesses of all lifestyles. You can imagine it but seeing it on the screen- it’s just overwhelming.”
As Willow was speaking, Chad stood, retrieved his laptop and the movie, and flipped on the power switch. Within minutes, all four were lost in a world of cotton, mills, gentility, and abject poverty. Willow carded and rolled nearly automatically now. Her eyes rarely leaving the screen as she worked the paddles back and forth, rolled the batt, and carded again.
Chad, on the other hand, observed everyone else as they watched the scenes scroll by on the computer screen. Willow was immediately lost in the nineteenth century world of cotton and industrialism. The incongruity of her hand carding wool while watching a movie on a laptop in the middle of her normally electric-free house struck him. However, more so than that, the constant attraction between Josh and Becca kept him entertained until the clock struck four-thirty.
“Oh, I have to go. Gram is probably working on dinner already and-”
Josh’s face fell. “I didn’t realize- Well, I can see you in Rockland at church I guess.”
“Sure. I’ll be back this Sunday. We leave Saturday.”
Willow picked up on the awkward strain and to Chad’s surprise and amusement, delved into her first attempt at matchmaking. “You’ll come back tomorrow though, won’t you Becca? We were going to try out the spinning wheel-”
“Of course!” Becca was already cleaning up the area around her trying to reduce the mess she’d created as she worked.
“I’ll get that for you Becca,” Josh insisted. “Let me walk you to your car.”
Willow smiled knowingly as Josh led Becca out to her car talking quietly as they walked. “You’re right. They’re so cute too.”
“You are incorrigible.”
“How?”
Chad nudged her knee smiling knowingly. “That was a ‘Josh, don’t you want to come back tomorrow’ hint if I’ve ever heard one.”
“Well, he should know she’s going to be here so when I invite him back, he knows-”
Chad’s laughter echoed through the window and out to Becca’s car. “It was nice meeting you Josh. I’m looking forward to seeing you at church.”
He hesitated. Two years at Rockland Street Mission and he still wasn’t sure he was ready to jump into anything but the idea of letting Becca out of the driveway without some kind of indication of his interest seemed foolish. “You know, I was wondering if maybe after church on Sunday…”
Becca’s eyes lit up encouraging him. “Yes?”
“Maybe we could go eat somewhere and talk?”
Chad and Willow sank back onto the couch as they saw Becca nod and Josh slam the door shut for her. “They’re going to hit it off beautifully,” Chad murmured.
“Silly, they already did.”
“Did what?” Josh’s voice sounded excited.
“You two seemed to hit it off…” Chad commented.
“She’s amazing. I can’t believe we’ve gone to the same church all this time-”
Willow’s quiet voice interrupted gently. “From the way you’ve spoken about your life, I don’t think you were ready to meet anyone special before now.”
“You’re right. I wasn’t. I’m not sure I am now but I can’t stand the idea of not getting to know her better.”
With a sidelong glance at Chad, Willow picked up her carding paddles. “So do you have to work tomorrow?”
“No, I’m off again, why- Oh.”
“Well, if you find yourself looking for something to do, we’re going to try our hand at spinning tomorrow and there’s lots of wool left to pull and separate…”
A huge grin split Josh’s face and the excitement in his voice made his lisp all the more pronounced. “Oh that’s so nice of you. Are you serious?”
“She’s been showing up around ten.”
“I’ll be here. Thanks.”
***
Moonlight flashed across their bed as clouds covered and then drifted away from the moon. Willow lay awake and unmoving knowing that she often woke Chad when she slipped downstairs for her trysts with the Lord. As carefully as she could, she turned on her side and tried resting quietly that way but still felt restless. Chad’s voice came sleepily in her ear.
“Go downstairs if you like. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She turned to find his face centimeters away from hers. “I’m sorry. I tried not to wake you up.”
“You didn’t. Nature calls. But I could tell you weren’t sleeping and I guessed why. Now go downstairs and commune with nature or whatever it is you do.”
“The Lord, goof,” she commented as she slipped out from under the sheets.
Chad watched her jog down the stairs and listened as the screen door opened and then the soft ‘bam’ as it shut behind her. “Lord, she’s such a multi-faceted person. Every time I think I understand her, there’s something else to discover. I’m starting to think that she’s going to look at me in a few years and think, ‘I married him. Why?’ Don’t let that happen- please.”
With a sigh, he slipped from the covers and padded toward the bathroom. “Oh, and remind me to avoid coffee before bed? I really am tired of these late night trips.”
Becca Jacobs tentatively exited her car and glanced around her. It hadn’t seemed to intimidating when the farm was crawling with other guests but now here alone, she felt awkward and uncertain. Was she truly welcome? She must be but then…
“Becca! Back here. I’m just hanging the last of the laundry.” Willow’s voice called to her from behind the house.
“Hey. I hoped you still meant it-”
“Of course! I’m glad to have you here. Have you ever made candles?”
The look in Becca’s face was priceless. “Make candles?”
“Well, you will now. I gave away most of my candles during the power outage this winter. I’ll need more before long.”
“Do you mind…” Becca hesitated. It was none of her business.
“What?”
“Well,” with a sigh, Becca plunged forward. “I just wondered why you don’t use electricity instead? It’s a lot less work but-” she winked. “I admit probably not as much fun.”
“You’re one of the first people who has even hinted that there might be an advantage to making candles.” She grabbed the candle wicking and tied it to her dipping sticks as she spoke. “We like having the simplicity that comes without having easy access to electricity. I mean, it’s easy access- I just have to flip the breaker, but we aren’t tempted to stay up too late, watch too many movies, or even sew more than we can use because they aren’t available. Why buy a TV if you don’t want to watch it very often? Why make it easy to sew more than you need by having a machine that works faster?”
“Why not?”
“Well,” Willow agreed, “You have a point. There’s nothing wrong with doing any of that. We just never wanted to so we took away the temptation. Well, Mother did. She did it at first because she knew she needed to make it hard to do what she was used to doing in order to retrain her palate. Then it was just our life.”
“It sounds beautiful. Like Laura Ingalls without the hardships.”
Willow handed Becca dipping sticks. “Just dip slowly and raise. Dip in the water to cool, raise. Repeat.” She demonstrated as she explained. “You’re right. We are like Laura Ingalls but without the hardships. I had a wonderful childhood. Honestly, I like to tease Chad he married me for my childhood.”
“He’s so in love with you.”
Uncertain eyes glanced at Becca. “What?”
“Chad. I could see how much he loves you at the wedding. It was a hard day for him, wasn’t it?”
“Why do you say that?”
“I don’t know. I’m crazy I guess but it seemed like he was nervous about something.” As she vocalized her thoughts, Becca blushed. “Oh duh. How stupid of me.”
Willow understood much more than Becca thought she’d observed. Chad. He’d expected a much different end to his wedding. She didn’t now how often she’d thanked the Lord for the strength to trust but she thanked Him again. How wrong she’d been. How wrong Mother had been!
“How did you meet Chad?”
With a rueful smile, Willow answered as simply as she could. “He was the officer on duty when I reported Mother’s death.”
“Oh I am so sorry-”
“No, it’s ok. It’s a natural question! Who meets their husband over a police counter?”
Becca held up her candles. “How are these?”
“Excellent! I think you have a knack for it.”
“So tell me more about you and Chad,” Becca persisted.
“Like what?”
With a mental list of dozens of questions, Becca launched into the first ones that came to mind. “When did you fall in love with him? What is his best quality? Are you planning to have many children? What was your favorite date?”
“Well, you don’t ask much, do you?”
“I just got started!” Becca’s laugh was a little nervous as though she wasn’t sure if she’d overstepped the bounds of courtesy.
“Well, which first?”
“When did you knew you were in love with him?”
Willow smiled apologetically. “I’m afraid my answer is going to be less than satisfactory. You see, I’m not in love with him. I love him of course,” she hastened to add. “But from what I read and what several people have told me, I’m not ‘in love’ yet.”
“How could you marry-”
“He’s my best friend. How could I not?”
This was logic that Becca couldn’t argue. “I suppose. It would make things easier. With what we’re doing-” Becca paused. Maybe taking about her situation wasn’t appropriate. After all, what she thought of how her month was going was not just about her.
Compassion flooded Willow’s face. “I think you’re very brave. To move into a man’s home, trust him with your safety and your heart- that takes courage that I don’t have.”
“I-” surprise stopped her. Courage. It wasn’t a word Becca would have chosen but described as Willow did, it had taken courage. “I guess I can see that. But then, Adric turned out to be such a wonderful man.”
“From what I could tell, he seems like exactly the kind of man I would have looked for had I gone looking.”
Willow’s words swirled in Becca’s mind as she tried to process them. Adric seemed nothing like Chad and yet Willow was right. Adric was exactly the kind of man she’d prayed for since her unfortunate ‘marriage’ failed. The thought confused her. “Isn’t it odd that you made a friend and married him without worrying about love and I’m spending a month with a man I don’t know trying to find love without a friendship?”
“I think it’s two roads to the same destination. I imagine both have smooth spots and both have ruts like my driveway gets sometimes but it works.” Willow smiled. “Tell me, what are the chances you would marry Adric if everything continued going as it is going today?”
“Honestly, after talking to you today, if he asked me to marry him tonight, I’d probably say yes. He’s growing fond of me- I can tell. I know he’d be good to me and he is the kind of man I could be happy trying to help. Yesterday I would have said, ‘I hope I fall in love with him or someone like him but you’ve really changed how I think.”
“I didn’t mean to.” A panicked tone grew in Willow’s voice.
“Well, I’m glad you did. I might have given up on a great guy because I assumed I needed something that I don’t. Look how happy you are! Look how in love Chad is- If it can work for you, why not me?”
***
“I didn’t know what to say,” Willow said sleepily. A year before, Willow would never have imagined talking to Chad about their love life at two in the morning as he crawled in from work. “I told her it wasn’t like that but she just applied it to me.”
Chad led his wife out of the kitchen and up the stairs. “Ahh, lass, but your friend is right,” he assured her as he pulled the light summer blankets over her as she crawled into bed.
By the time he returned from his shower and attention to teeth, Willow was fast asleep. He leaned against the dresser and watched her as the moonlight shone across her face. The light reflected the peace in her expression and yet there was the slightest wrinkle in her brow as though there were questions unanswered in her mind that troubled her.
“You have no idea, lass. You have no idea.”
***
At ten o’clock Chad crawled from the covers disoriented. The room was darker than he thought it should be until he realized that she’d made new shades that blocked out the light entirely. Chad spent a few minutes trying to discover how to raise them until the obvious answer made him chuckle. “Only Willow would make shades that you hand roll up and hook onto the top of the window,” he muttered to himself.
In the bathroom, he was tempted to ignore the dark stubble that turned his jaw line into sandpaper but remembering Willow’s involuntary grimace one morning the previous week, he grabbed his cordless razor and carried it into their bedroom. Within minutes, he was removing his recent growth as he retrieved jeans and a t-shirt. Who knew what she’d have them doing that day?
Becca’s laughter greeted him as he entered the kitchen. “I can’t believe it worked!” Becca blushed. “Hey Chad. She let me stir and look!”
Chad obediently looked in the large enamel pot and nodded as if he understood what he saw. “Excellent. You having fun?”
“This is the most fun I’ve ever had in my life. I can’t believe how at home I feel doing all this stuff that I didn’t know anyone did anymore.”
Willow handed Chad a cup of coffee and a muffin. “She’s good. I could leave her the recipe and go work out in the garden and come back to a perfect set.”
“Then, can I steal you for a minute or two?”
Becca waved them off as she stirred, read directions, and waited for the exact moment that the mixture turned to the “consistency of honey” before pouring into the waiting molds. She glanced out the window and watched the couple as they talked. Willow leaned against the back porch smiling up at her husband while Chad rested one arm against the post and played with her braid with his other hand.
Their kiss turned Becca’s head back to the task at hand. It wasn’t any of her business. With a sigh, she prayed, “Lord, I want that. Is it so wrong to want that?”
Outside, despite the terribly romantic looking scene from the kitchen, Chad and Willow were engrossed in a much less interesting conversation. “So the trial is going to start soon?”
“Next month. She has the best lawyers but the evidence is undeniable. She is not allowing her lawyers to call you to the stand according to the District Attorney.”
Willow’s eyes widened. “Wow. I didn’t know that was an option.”
“He told me he might call you in for a deposition but he doesn’t think he’ll need you in court.”
Shaking her head, Willow protested. “I don’t want to do that.”
“Well, you won’t have a choice if they subpoena you.”
“What do you mean, won’t have a choice? I don’t want to go to court. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well,” Chad hadn’t realized that Willow didn’t understand this part of the law. “They can compel you to come and testify.”
“How? Will they torture me? What kind of country is this? I thought we had protection from this kind of tyranny!” Tears of frustration filled her eyes and threatened to overflow. She brushed them away impatiently. “I don’t want to have anything to do with it.”
“They’ll find you in contempt of court. You’d be fined and probably jailed. The D.A. said he didn’t think he’d need you in court. He just wants a deposition.”
A stubborn look filled her face. “Then I’ll pay the fine and sit in jail until they realize that they can’t make me testify.”
“They can keep you there until you do. Which means,” he added with the slightest hint of an edge to his voice,” that I’ll be left without a wife, doing all the work around here, your crops will die, the animals will suffer, and we won’t be prepared for next winter- if you’re even out of jail by then. You’ll have a criminal record which in this area would probably kill any chances of my becoming an elected sheriff.”
“It’s just not right!” Willow’s eyes flashed as she realized the helplessness of the situation. “I don’t want to get involved.”
Chad slipped his hand in hers and led her slowly back to the barn. “You may not be. We don’t know.” He paused by the kitchen door and wiped away a stray tear with his thumb. “On a brighter note, your grandparents want us to come to dinner on Sunday. Joe switched with me so we could go.”
“But you’ll miss church then!” Willow’s eyes looked confused. “I don’t understand you. One day church isn’t an option and the next it is.”
“Family is important too, Willow. Your uncle and his wife and daughter will be there. I don’t know about the boys. I said I’d call this afternoon if we can make it.”
“Well, we can make it but-”
“Good. I’ll call them right now. Are you guys going to work on that wool after the soap?”
Willow shook her head. “I thought about it but then I remembered Jill saying something about soap sleeves so I think we’ll drag out the paper and paints and things and make covers for the soap. We can work on wool tomorrow.”
“But Josh is coming- remember?”
“Well, he can watch while we talk. You guys can go fishing or something if he’s not interested.”
Chad’s laughter startled Becca as she poured soap into molds. “Willow, I don’t think Josh is the fishing kind of guy. I think he’d find it pretty disgusting.”
“Who wouldn’t like fishing?” The concept was foreign to her.
“Guys like Josh are um- well they’re more interested in artsy things. Some don’t like the outdoors much-”
“Oh, so Josh is like Bill. I see-”
“Um…” Chad hesitated. Should he even bother explaining? “Let’s just say that Bill wouldn’t find that a very flattering comment. I’ll show him your books and craft room and maybe take him on a tour of the town if he’s not interested in wool. I can see him being very interested in spinning so who knows.”
“Chad?”
“Hmm?”
Willow reached up, pulled his face closer to hers and met his eyes. “Sometimes you make no sense.”
He kissed her nose and opened the kitchen door. “Why don’t I go bring down that paper stuff for you while you guys finish the soaps?”
***
“So what does Chad do all day? I mean when he’s not working?” Becca suddenly felt stupid. He worked all day or night- what else did the guy need to do.
“Well, when he’s home, he takes care of the animals most of the time. Anything I need harvested he’s good at and he did the new field plowing for me. He’s probably going to be the woodworker around here too.”
“So will you do more of your own animal breeding and butchering now that he’s around?”
This wasn’t something Willow had ever considered. The problem with having a predictable routine was the inevitable tendency toward a rut. “I don’t know. I’ll have to talk to him. Perhaps he’d rather do that.”
“I was thinking this’d be a cool place for school field trips. You know, the kids come and see you make soap and candles, milk a goat, spin some wool, bake bread in a woodstove, can food- it’d be like one of those living museums almost.”
“Do-” she hesitated. The idea was appealing but somewhat absurd as well. “Do you really think anyone would be interested in seeing something like this?”
“If you had regular tours, I’d find the ones most appropriate for my older daycare kids and I’d bring them out one summer day. You could have hayrides and picnics…” The dreamy tones to Becca’s voice told Willow that her guest was romanticizing her life.
“How would I show the work involved though? Making soap is fun- candles too. But this is all work. Sun up until sundown from around February, thanks to the greenhouse, through October at the least. It’s hard work. How do you take away the romantic idea that it’s just playing Laura Ingalls three hundred sixty-five days a year?”
Concentrating on Willow’s words, Becca shrugged. “I’m not sure. I mean, it’d be a lot of work giving those kinds of tours and if you don’t have time to spare, it probably wouldn’t work.”
“I’ll talk to Chad. He’s always saying that children should all have my childhood. I disagree. I think that if everyone had the same kind of childhood, the world would be a very uninteresting place. But, maybe he has a point about everyone experiencing a taste of it just as I’d like my children to taste the occasional day in the city going to museums or the zoo.”
Becca held up another finished soap sleeve and smiled. “I like them. Why is it called Walden Farm instead of Finley or Tesdall?”
The memory of Chad’s assertion that their farm was Kari’s personal ‘Walden’ filled Willow’s heart. “Chad named it for Mother. She loved Thoreau’s ‘live life deliberately’ and sucking the marrow out of life’ and that’s what this farm was about. Her enjoying every moment of every day to its fullest. So, he thought we should name it. I think Bill is working on changing our holdings over to some kind of corporation with that name. I don’t understand it all but, that’s what he said.”
The living room clock struck four-thirty. Becca’s eyes widened in surprise and she quickly began clearing her paper mess. “I have to go. Gram is going to be wondering where I am and what I’m doing. Adric gets home in a little while.”
“How is it going? Are you hoping to keep seeing him next month too?”
“I think I will. He’s being very- oh, I don’t know the word. Attentive perhaps. He’s good to me, he’s a little affectionate and from the way Lily was talking, he hasn’t done that yet. Sometimes I think I see something in his eyes that tells me he’s even more attached than he says, but I don’t know. I’m just so happy that it looks like there’s a chance, you know?”
“Well,” Willow teased, “Don’t keep the man waiting too long. There’s another gal from next month just waiting to step into your shoes.”
“Don’t I know it,” Becca agreed ruefully. “It makes me sick to think about it but if I’m who the Lord wants for him, I guess I need to have a little more faith.”
Shearing was an amazing experience that Willow couldn’t wait to repeat. Already, they’d arranged for more lambs to be delivered in July, had after seeing how quickly the sheep were shorn, Willow decided to attend one of the shearing schools offered at the New Cheltenham Ranch the next year. Chad, completely uninterested in sheep, decided that Kari had the right idea all along.
Of course, Willow had books lying all over the table telling her how to clean, card, and spin the wool from the two fleeces that now sat proudly on a bench in the barn. Though Chad was lost to the appeal of sheep, wool, or spinning, he faithfully drove to New Cheltenham, Rockland, back to New Cheltenham, and then home again where he spent his final hours of honeymooning staining, varnishing, and assembling Willow’s new spinning wheel.
Saturday morning, Chad sat at the table amazed as he remembered the week he’d had with his wife. Wife. Had it really been just a year ago that he’d prayed that the Lord would take Willow out of his life? Had he really resented her as much as he remembered? Seeing her as she pulled muffins from the oven, scooped eggs and ‘breakfast steak’ onto his plate, humming contentedly, he couldn’t remember why he’d rejected her for so long.
It had been an amazing week. He waited, day by day, for some kind of awkwardness to upset the balance of their relationship but it didn’t happen. Even amid the newness of everything, there was a comfortable camaraderie that felt as though they’d been together forever and to his own ears, that sounded as crazy as he knew it was.
“What are you going to do today?”
She shrugged. “I’ve been neglecting the chickens. I think it’s time to do some more butchering. I’ve got those new chicks coming in so…”
“Great day to go back to work.”
She stood on the porch and waved him off to work- another first in their life. As the truck brake lights disappeared, Willow gave a last wave and hurried to clean the kitchen before her afternoon of chicken slaughter. She wanted it all done and every trace gone before Chad was off work.
Portia was a complete nuisance until Willow gave up and tied the yapping bundle of fur to the front porch. The chickens were not much more cooperative but thanks to not trying to keep them in the land of the living, this wasn’t nearly as frustrating. In nearly record time, she had the birds skinned and ready to process in the kitchen. Once she plucked and gutted the last two birds, she’d be done and could go bury the remains.
As she trudged toward the tree line, Willow pondered the changes in her home. So much had changed and yet so little. On the surface, she knew of course that everything had transformed into a new life but reasonably speaking, that transformation had begun very slowly just a year ago. The wedding and such had just changed what that all meant.
By the time she returned home, Willow had decided to slow roast the chicken over the grill. Chad hadn’t come home for lunch and she hadn’t expected him to. He’d be hungry by the time he got home and roasted chicken…
The clock showed five-thirty by the time she got all of the animals fed, milked Ditto, and put away the rest of the tools. She grabbed her favorite skirt and top, a towel, and raced for the shower. After the day’s work, she looked forward to relaxing in the porch swing until Chad got home.
Once the bird was basted one last time, Willow and the puppy walked around to the front of the house. She grabbed the current journal she was reading, the bone she’d given to the puppy, and settled into the porch swing kicking the bone across the porch. While she found her place in the journal, the puppy bounced after the bone, grabbed it, growled, rolled and made a puppy nuisance of himself over it. Willow read.
June 2001,
I realize that I need to stop treating Willow as my child. I mean, she is my child but she’s an adult now. The law can say what it wants but she’s been an adult for many years already. I think I need to ease her into a different way of interrelating. I’m not sure how to do it.
I have tried to remember what mom and dad did. I don’t know. It seemed as if one day I was just there and had been for ages. One thing that I am certain of- she needs to have a solid idea of what work comes when so she can plan her own time and not rely so heavily on me. I just have no idea how to do this.
She could do it. If I dropped dead right now, she’d be fine and that’s always been my focus. I need to focus on how to live as two adults together rather than as just mother and daughter. I don’t know, maybe I’m overcomplicating things. There has just always been this implied authority in our relationship and well, I’m not sure it’s appropriate anymore. At her age, I would have resented it I’m sure.
I need to condense our work journals. I need to encourage her to choose what she wants to do rather than delegate. I can make this happen. I must make this happen if I hope to keep her happy here.
Chad’s truck bounced across the driveway and into the yard. Portia raced for it sending Willow and Chad both into cardiac arrest. This wasn’t something that Saige had ever done and none of the other puppies they’d had were familiar with vehicles. It just hadn’t been an option.
“Next time I drive in, hold her back until I turn off the truck. Maybe if we don’t let her go until the truck turns off, she’ll learn to wait for it.” Chad grabbed an arm full of uniforms from the passenger’s side and slammed the door behind him.
“What if it’s two in the morning and you don’t see her?”
“Better lock her in the barn at night until she’s bigger.”
Willow made a face. “So much for a guard dog.”
By now, Chad was at the first porch step. “Hey. I missed you.”
She grinned. “And you were glad to miss me and all the chicken guts-”
“Ew. What’s for dinner?” he interrupted grabbing her hand and pulling her into the house. “I’ve got to get these upstairs and change.”
“The chicken is probably done…” She waited expectantly.
“Ew! Really? How can you stand to eat one of those things after wallowing in their innards all day?”
“Probably how you can stand to drive somewhere after work when you’ve been driving all day.” Willow’s face was a study in smugness.
Chad gave her hair a tug as he raced up the stairs. Willow waited a moment, heard the drawers opening, the linen closet bang, and then the bathroom door shut. Impatiently, she drummed the newel at the base of the stairs. The bath water turned on and she took a step. She waited. Another step. She hurried into the kitchen and listened contentedly to the familiar sound of bathwater running as she assembled a salad, heated a jar of green beans, and set the table.
“The Lord gives, takes away, and then gives again. Blessed be the name of the Lord,” she whispered.
***
As Chad bathed, he debated. There were two things he knew that they needed to discuss but on his first night back after work? Tomorrow was Sunday though- the debate raged inwardly. Grabbing his shoes and socks, Chad headed downstairs praying for guidance and to know when or if to mention anything yet. Perhaps a call to Luke or Pop before he broached any difficult subjects was in order.
“That smells wonderful. I am starving.”
“I thought you would be. A frozen burrito from the convenience store?”
“How’d you guess?” Chad accepted his plate and held her chair.
“Oh, you’re a creature of habit. Thanks.”
Chad had quickly adopted the Finley habit of thanking the Lord for their food after the end of the meal. Once or twice over the past six months he’d even led her to the couch before offering thanks and they’d spent a long evening in prayer and immersed in the Word. His parents had found the practice uncomfortable at first but even Christopher finally agreed that it was easier to concentrate on being genuinely thankful when your food isn’t cooling before your nostrils.
“Well, what’s on tomorrow’s agenda?” Chad tested the waters.
“Don’t you have until two?”
“Yep.”
Willow grinned. “Well, then surely we’d have time to go to church and get you home in time to get fed.”
Chad nodded. It was enough. He’d worry about money issues later. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Chad, what’s wrong?” She didn’t like making assumptions but something in Chad’s eyes wasn’t normal.
“I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”
“Care to share?”
Chad hesitated. Maybe it was the right time. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about coming to church when I had to go to work right afterward.”
“But you always go to church if you’re off work. Why wouldn’t we?”
“Well,” he prayed for the right words and then felt silly. This was one of those times where he knew he’d look ridiculous for making mountains out of molehills. “I just know that you don’t always go and I was borrowing trouble. I thought you might resent me for wanting to go.”
“Why? I like to go to church too and even if I didn’t, two hours isn’t going to ruin my life.” Her face was a comical study in confusion.
“Like I said, I was borrowing trouble. I’ve never asked why you don’t always go so I just made assumptions with nothing as a foundation.”
“Well, you could ask and then you wouldn’t need assumptions.” Willow thought Chad was making no sense at all. What did her not going to church every week have to do with the fact that he did?
“Ok, why don’t you go sometimes?”
“Lots of reasons.” Willow held up a hand and ticked off fingers for each one. “I forget. I don’t feel like walking. I have something to keep an eye on here. I need a few hours alone with the Lord and it’s a convenient time for it. I know you’re not going to be around to bring me home and I don’t feel like turning down half the church as I try to get away…”
“Ok, ok.” It was now or never. “I wonder, how often have you read Hebrews?”
“Several times a year for most of my life.”
With a deep breath, he plunged forward. “So what do you make of the verse that says not to forsake the assembling of yourselves together?”
“Well, obviously that Chris-” she paused. “Wait a minute. Are you saying that you think I am wrong not to go to church every week?”
Chad stammered. The word every pounded in his brain. Had she left out every, he could have easily answered yes. Now if he qualified it, he’d look like he was waffling. “I’m wondering what value you place on assembling with God’s people.”
“Well, if I show up on semi-regular basis, how on earth can that be evidence of forsaking?”
“It isn’t. I was just asking-” He knew he was being a coward. Chad took a deep breath. “What about Acts?”
“What about it?” Willow’s curiosity kept her from feeling attacked much to Chad’s relief.
“Well, the Christians met from house to house daily. They had the Lord’s supper weekly. It might not be commanded, but doesn’t it look implied?”
Willow shook her head as though to clear it. “I don’t understand what you’re saying, Chad. I think you want something from me but every time I try to ask, you divert the question.”
“I just think that scripturally speaking, there is strong evidence for making gathering with other Christians on a regular basis a priority in our lives.”
“So, you think that whenever you’re off of work we should be there? I’m good with that.”
“I’d like,” he added trepidatiously, “to know that whatever part of our family can be there, will be there, every week.”
“You want me to commit to going every week?”
He nodded. “For the most part, yes. I think it’s important.”
“Ok. I don’t make promises when it’s raining or freezing out though.”
“You could learn to drive-”
“No thanks.” If there was one thing that Willow held no interest in, it was driving. It made no sense to Chad but he accepted it- usually.
Several minutes passed with little more than the clinking of silverware on plates to fill the quiet of the kitchen. “Chad?”
“Mmm hmm?”
“Why didn’t you just tell me you wanted me to go? Why all the questions and hemming. I don’t get it?”
“Well, I didn’t want to ruin my first night home after going back to work but tomorrow is Sunday-”
“But, still, I don’t understand. Why the hoops? Why not just ask or tell me?”
He took a deep breath. Kicking himself for not realizing she’d notice is discomfort, Chad shrugged. “Willow, sometimes when people suggest that you do something different than you’ve always done or worse, imply that you could be wrong- well, you don’t take it very well. I didn’t want an argument.”
“Ouch.”
Chad grabbed his plate and went to refill it with more chicken. “This is really good. More tender than the last ones.”
“It’s younger. I waited too long to kill the other ones.” She smiled up at him as he sat down again. “Chad, I’d rather have an argument than know you want to say something but don’t think I’ll like it.”
“And I’d rather avoid arguments all together. You don’t mind the conflict as long as it’s resolved. I hate it. I hate conflict.” He sighed. “Willow, I just don’t like to bring up subjects that’ll make things awkward between us. I like it when everything is right and I hate it when we’re out of sorts.”
“Am I really that bad?” She smiled at him again but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“Willow, the last time we had a discussion about something we didn’t like, you were ready to call off the wedding.”
“I guess I am,” she admitted. “I wasn’t trying to be difficult that time. I was trying to-”
“That was a low blow. Sorry. That one was completely my fault and I had no business using it as an example. How about ‘no kids if I have to educate them like this’?”
“I guess you’re right. Mother and I must have agreed on more than we thought. We never-” Her eyes grew wide. “Oh Chad. I did that to Mother too! When I didn’t get what I wanted, I stabbed her in the heart.” Tears filled her eyes and she jumped from her chair. Chad started to follow but she waved him back. “I need a few minutes.”
He watched confused as she left the house and strolled across the fields toward the stream. “Lord, what just happened?”
***
Late that night, after they’d been sleeping for hours, Willow crept from the covers and padded downstairs. Chad heard the creak of the screen door and sighed. He tossed the blankets from him and followed. Everything had seemed fine, why was she now so unsettled?
“Willow?”
She turned and smiled. “Hmm?”
Chad pushed the door open letting it bang gently behind him. “You ok?” He sank to the step beside her and pulled her to him. “I’m worried about you.”
“I was just thinking.”
“Have you always come out here in the middle of the night?” Chad didn’t remember her wandering last year.
“Usually. Mother said she found me in the porch swing as often as she didn’t when I was little.”
“Didn’t she worry about you wandering off somewhere?”
Willow shrugged. “Not that I can remember.”
“What do you think about when you come out here in the middle of the night?”
“It’s when I feel closest to God. It’s when that ’still small voice’ seems to pierce my thick skull. I love praying in the dark and the stillness.”
“Want me to go?” Chad’s voice was little more than a whisper in her ear.
“Never.”
Early Wednesday morning, before the sun forced its way over the eastern horizon, Chad rolled over and his arm curled cozily around- nothing. Subconsciously, he knew something was wrong but it took him several minutes to fight his way out of sleep back to the land of consciousness. Willow was gone and her side of the bed, cold.
He shivered at the cool air that hit his arms and legs as he crawled from the covers and wrapped the robe from their personal shower around him. Chad remembered her hanging it on the wall next to his side of the bed assuring him he’d need it. He’d thought she was crazy but here he was, wrapping it around him and shivering. The open window sent damp breezes into their house.
Their house. Already he’d begun to feel possessive of her property. Was that good? As he jogged down the steps to the living room, Chad pondered it but came to no conclusion.
She wasn’t in the living room, kitchen, or library. He glanced out the back door but saw no lights in the barn. The front porch looked dark as well, so he wearily climbed the stairs again checking the craft and newly decorated ’sitting room’ but Willow seemed to have vanished.
“Willow?” Why he called quietly, Chad couldn’t explain- even to himself. In their room, he stared hard out the window trying to discern if the lump by the oak where her- their mother was buried was the gravestones or if Willow had gone out there again. He couldn’t tell.
With a sigh, he pulled on his shoes, sans socks, and dragged himself back down the stairs. In this mist, she’d get sick if she fell asleep out there. He then laughed at the thought. If anyone wouldn’t get sick, it was Willow. She never got sick. She’d once told him she only remembered being ill a few times in her life.
As he stepped out the front door, he stopped. There, sleeping comfortably in the swing with her mother’s journal on her chest, lay Willow. A quilt covered her but to Chad, she looked cold. Though he hated to wake her, the idea of her sleeping on the narrow swing, rolling off, or getting chilled was too much for him.
He shook her gently. “Willow; lass wake up.”
“He’s good to me Mother,” she murmured in her sleep. “You would like him.”
The hollow tones in her voice told him the ache of Kari’s loss was still rooted in Willow’s heart. She must fight the pain constantly and, he realized miserably, probably for his sake. “Lass, come on. Let’s get you inside.”
“I want to stay out here, Mother. I feel closer to Jesus in the night.” The words were mumbled and whispered making it nearly impossible for Chad to hear them.
Not knowing what else to do, Chad went inside, grabbed her wool afghan from the chaise, and draped it over her. He brushed her cheek with his thumb staring down at her before he picked up the hand tied ‘journal’ and carried it upstairs. There was something lacking in these copied journals. He needed to see if the Chief thought her journals safe at home again or not.
Upstairs, he tossed and turned. How had he grown accustomed to having her close after only four nights? Finally, in desperation, he lit the candle and began reading.
January, 2001
I’m broken. I knew this day would come. I knew eventually she’d resent me or worse. Today when I planned a trip to Rockland to discuss her majority with Bill, she asked to go. I refused. Why am I so unreasonable- why do I let my fears overcome me? Why can she not see that I wouldn’t do this unless I thought it was best?
She attacked me. I want to say I have no idea where this venomous side came from, but I know it would be dishonest. She got it from me and if it can be passed along genetically, I assume from Steve. The things she said- I can’t repeat them. My heart was broken. I take that back. My heart is broken.
How long will it take her to forgive me? How long will it take me to forgive her? Is this it? Is this the beginning of the end of this idyllic life I tried so hard to create? Can we ever get past this?
I can’t stand it. She won’t look at me. I can’t speak to her. We work together in silence and avoid that togetherness as much as possible. Did I blow it? Should I have reconsidered the adoption scenario?
No! It was the right thing to do. Oh great. There’s a car coming up the drive. I need to go run off a salesman, missionary, or some other obnoxious trespasser.
Well, I didn’t get back to this for a few days, and I’m glad. Willow apologized as did I. I told her that next time I go to town, she’s welcome to come, just not this time. I wanted her to make the decision to go because she’d thought it out clearly, not because I made forbidden fruit acceptable. She seems fine with it.
Willow just came in and apologized again. She seems broken over her ugliness. It was truly horrible. The things she accused me of doing were vile. I think she’s been rehashing the conversation in her mind and realizes how it cut my heart.
Her repentance is beautiful. I know I’m a mother and that I am probably unreasonably biased toward my child but when I think of the people I knew when I was her age- when I think of me at her age, I see justification and anger when confronted with my sin. If not confronted, I was ambivalent. I didn’t care. I brushed it aside and ignored the searing it did on my heart.
Not Willow. My girl doesn’t do that. She sins- she’s human, but she repents, whole heartedly. There is no justification. There is only acknowledgement, contrition, and confession. It may take her a while to see it, but once she does, it’s over.
I love her. I try to imagine her in the so-called ‘real world’ and I cringe. It’ll destroy her. It’ll ruin the woman that God has molded out of His clay. She’d be seared- hardened. Her conscience- how could it remain so tender when constantly beaten by the ugliness of this world?
Men would be drawn to her and yet they’d mock her. She’d trust them and then be crushed by their insensitive ugliness. Even a kind man like Bill wouldn’t understand her.
Bill. I wonder about him. Why hasn’t he married? What horrible things do I not know about him? When Willow had that crush on him I worried. Now I worry about what happens over the next few years. She’s growing into a woman. It won’t be long before he won’t see her as a child. Will he take her away from me? He’s not blind, he’s not stupid- what will I do?
Oh how ridiculous. I’m borrowing trouble and being fearful. He’s watched her grow up. If anything, he’d see her as a little sister to fix up with some kid at church who would be even worse. I need to make sure that home is the most wonderful place to be so that she doesn’t develop the desire for anything else.
If all else fails, I’ll buy her some of her blasted sheep. She can spend a few years perfecting her sheep and spinning skills and maybe by then, I’ll have something else to interest her. I could always insist that she learn woodworking. After all, eventually I’m going to get old and find it hard to do some of these things.
She just brought me peach tea. She hates the stuff- even the smell of it but she did it for me. Lord, I don’t deserve such a wonderful daughter.
Chad closed the pages and laid them on his nightstand. He understood Kari much more than Willow ever would. Her concerns about men- she’d even considered the possibility of Bill. How wrong she’d been. Chad remembered the pain in Bill’s face as he shook hands at arrival and their leaving. The waltz- Willow had sought him out and danced not realizing how much it hurt him to do it.
She’d been right about one thing. Willow was wonderful. The more he thought of it, he realized that eeverything he thought he’d ever wanted in a wife- Willow had. “She is wonderful Lord and like Kari, I don’t deserve her.”
***
Rain pounded the roof and earth. Willow stared out the window and Chad stared at Willow. It was a ridiculously exciting moment in their new marriage.
“Bowling?”
Willow shook her head The idea sounded revolting. “No thanks. I’m tempted to let the puppy in.”
“You’ll regret it.”
“I know.”
Chad was disappointed. He’d hoped she’d relent and agree to the puppy. He hated the idea of that poor puppy out in the old and the rain. The stupid animal kept sitting in the yard howling for someone to rescue her from herself.
“What about a movie? There’s an action movie in Fairbuy right now…”
“I don’t want to get sick. I think all that moving around on that huge wall would make me sick.”
He’d never seen her bored like this. It was hysterical. “Well…” His mind raced with ideas from roller skating to museums. Finally he jumped to his feet. “Get your shoes on. Let’s go to the Aquarium.”
“What is it? I mean, I know what an aquarium is- we almost got one once-”
“Well, the Rockland Aquarium is huge. It has fish from all over the world. There are actual sharks and octopi and even penguins.”
Ninety minutes later, they entered the massive building that housed the Rockland Metro Area Aquarium and Water park. During summer, people swam with dolphins, slid down slides into pools, and watched whale shows but that side was closed during winter and on rainy days after May first.
At the first wall of glass, Chad was introduced to the Willow Bill met when she first arrived in Rockland. Her eyes widened, her breath became shallow, and then she froze. He wandered back and forth assuming that her stillness was voluntary but eventually came back to her side and took her hand absently. The coldness of her fingers surprised him.
“What’s wrong.”
“Is it safe?” She couldn’t believe she was having this conversation again.
“Is what safe.”
“That wall,” she whispered shuddering at the mental image of the glass giving way and drowning a room full of people.
Chad pulled her close to him turning her away from the wall and through a doorway. “It’s safe. Thousands of people come through this room every week. Not once has that glass even cracked.”
“But the second law of thermodynamics-”
“I know,” he agreed soothingly. “But no one said that the decay was rapid. Look how well preserved the earth is after six thousand years. Look at that tree in California, Methuselah. It’s been around since the time of the flood and it’s still standing. It’s dying like everything else but it doesn’t happen overnight.”
She nodded. This she could understand. “How will they know when it isn’t safe? Will they know before someone is hurt?”
She tried to glance back at the wall of glass but the darkness in the aquarium made it mercifully impossible. They saw a beautiful tank of jellyfish and Chad rejoiced Willow didn’t notice the size of it. The penguins delighted her causing all fear to dissipate for a while.
However, to everyone’s dismay, Chad forgot the famous Rockland Under the Sea exhibit. They followed a tour guide through the archway and into the dome of the exhibit. At first, Willow was as awed by the incredible sights of the water around her but when a small shark swam straight for her, she screamed. Her voice, echoing through the room, pierced the ears of everyone and frightened several small children making them cry.
Chad’s eyes widened and the tour guide gave him a look that said, ‘do something fast.’ Uncertain what to do, he wrapped his arms around her, buried her head into his shoulder and slowly backed out of the room glancing behind him and looking for a bench. Her screams ceased the moment he pulled her from the tunnel leading to the exhibit.
“It’s ok,” he murmured sitting down and pulling her closer. “It’s just a room. I forgot about it or I would have warned you.”
“There are children in there,” she sobbed quietly. “How can they risk it-”
“People work for peanuts giving those tours and cleaning the glass and do you think they’d do that if it wasn’t safe? Is the little bit they are paid worth the money if it’s dangerous?”
“They’re stupid.” Willow’s obstinacy would have been annoying if her face wasn’t scrunched adorably and an air of protectiveness didn’t make him chuckle. She sat upright and glared at him. “What is so funny?”
“You just make my heart happy. Even when you terrify small children.”
“I-” The look of disbelief on her face was priceless.
“Well what did you think would happen screaming like that?”
“I screamed?” She remembered panic. She’d frozen in place, she was sure of it but Willow had no memory of screaming. “I never scream.”
“Want to try again?”
She shook her head. “I really just want to go. Please-” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I can’t get the image of that shark swimming right at me out of my head.”
Once outside, Willow glanced around her smiling at the tall buildings. “I never thought I’d be so glad to see those huge things. I love those buildings now.”
“Well, where to? We’re in town-”
A smile broke out over her face. “I want to go to the fabric store where I bought the fabric for the girls’ dresses. I want to give the man who helped me a tip. He was so kind.”
Chad shrugged and accepted the address she passed him. “Do you have a card?”
“For what?”
“Well,” Chad explained patiently, “most people get embarrassed if you just hand them cash but if you put it in a card that says thank-you, it’s just different.”
They pulled up to the fabric store twenty minutes later and Chad was amused to hear her ask for ‘Josh’ by name. “Well,” the cashier said lazily, “I think he just got off…”
“Can you page him just in case?” Chad’s voice was firm but agreeable.
“Well-”
“Thanks, we’d really appreciate it.”
When Josh burst through the double doors, Chad fought not to drop his jaw. The clearly effeminate actions of the man told Chad more than Willow could have possibly understood. “Is that-”
“Josh!” Willow rushed forward smiling. “Do you remember me?”
“Daisy yellow. Your wedding was just a week or two ago wasn’t it?” Josh’s memory was legendary around the store.
“I brought you a card. The dresses were just perfect and you were so helpful.”
Josh looked around uncomfortably. “Want to get a coffee with me?”
Chad realized that Josh was unaware that he was with Willow and stepped forward. “That sounds great. It’s nice to meet you Josh.”
“Oh!” The man’s gestures solidified Chad’s initial assessment. This would get interesting. “You must be the lucky groom. Come on, I can’t wait to hear everything.”
Outside the store, Josh led them down the street, around the corner, and into an old café that had definitely seen better years. “The coffee isn’t gourmet here but it’s good and it’s hot.” He waved at the waitress at the counter. “When you have a minute Wendy.”
Chad pushed Willow’s card across the table. “Willow told me how helpful you were. I really appreciate it. I was afraid she’d be overwhelmed in a store like yours.”
“I could tell she’d never been in one.” He grinned at Willow. “You know, if you hadn’t said bridal, I would have asked you out right there. You were the most interesting person I’ve met in a long time.”
The look of shock on Chad’s face surprised Willow and amused Josh. “I thought-”
“I’m not surprised,” Josh agreed. “Before Barney over at the mission introduced me to Jesus…”
This was a story Chad wanted to hear. He grinned at Willow and said, “This is going to be beautiful. I can tell.”
“I don’t understand.”
Josh looked at Chad surprised. “She didn’t think-”
Chad shook his head. “She’s never been exposed to anything-”
A wistful tone entered Josh’s voice. He looked into Willow’s eyes and reached one hand across the table to squeeze both of hers. ”You have no idea how absolutely blessed you are.”
Confused, Willow listened as Josh told of his life long love of fashion, interior design, and beauty. “People always assumed- I guess I can see why but-”
Suddenly, Chad guessed the story. Assuming a person’s ‘persuasion’ did little but push Josh into a lifestyle he would never have chosen voluntarily. “You felt trapped and assumed that others knew more about you than you knew yourself?”
“If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck-”
“It couldn’t possibly be a person who likes to wear duck costumes?” Compassion and surprise flooded Chad’s voice. “When did you realize?”
“When Barney treated me like something worthwhile. He loved me, told me about Jesus, and didn’t preach at me about my lifestyle. I finally had to bring it up.”
“What’d he say?”
“Nothing. He said that when Jesus indwelled my heart, He’d help me do whatever Jesus wanted me to do. He could have shown me the Bible. At that point-” Josh’s slight lisp grew slightly more pronounced. “I would have grabbed at any excuse-”
“I’ll bet that’s why he didn’t,” Chad commented. He was impressed. Without a doubt, Chad knew that one of the first things he would have done would have been to encourage Josh to repent.
“Right. I was looking for an out for something I hated anyway. I don’t know if I would have ever truly repented if he would have pushed right then.”
Willow listened confused. Josh and Chad seemed to understand each other perfectly but she didn’t have a clue as to what was such a big deal. Though tempted to interrupt and ask, she wisely decided to wait. Chad could explain later. Josh seemed to need to talk.
“Of course now,” Josh continued, “I’m an outcast with the old crowd, the girls at church see me as something they can’t quite trust, and I should feel as alone as I ever did.”
“But with Jesus-” Chad began.
“You’re never alone.”
Unconsciously, Willow began humming the old hymn, “… no never alone, no never alone. He promised never to leave me, never to leave me alone…” Josh squeezed her hand again. “Exactly. Someday I’ll meet people who are as comfortable with me as you and Willow- and even Barney-”
“I bet you know my sister.” Chad hesitated even as he spoke. What if Cheri had been one of the girls who had rejected him? He couldn’t imagine it.
“What’s her name?”
“Cheri Tesdall.”
Josh’s eyes lit up. “She was the first person to invite me to one of those singles things that happen around different towns. I knew she was going with some other guy but just knowing someone wanted me to go-”
“I’m just glad she’s not one of the ones who rejected-”
“Cheri wouldn’t! Chad, how could you think that! I think Cheri would like Josh if she wasn’t so wrapped up in Chuck.” She blushed. “Well, I mean she’d like him anyway but I thought she’d appreciate him more personally if her-” Willow stopped herself. “You know what I mean.”
They stayed through dinner. Ate dessert, and continued to talk. Finally, Josh jumped up and insisted he had to leave. “I’m supposed to play the piano tonight for the children at the mission. They have classes for the kids on Wednesday night. I have to go.”
Chad pulled a receipt from his wallet and wrote their phone number on it. “Call us. Anytime. Come visit. Come to church with us. Maybe what you need is a broader group of friends and we’d like to be the first to invite you to Fairbury.”
Fighting back tears and an even heavier lisp, Josh waved and dashed out the door thanking them as he went. Chad watched him leave deeply hurt by his own attitude. He’d made the same assumptions. Those very assumptions by others had eventually caused the self-doubt that led a young man into a lifestyle he’d naturally rejected.
“I wonder how common that is?” he wondered to himself.
“How common what is? What were you guys talking about?”
Chad sighed. “Didn’t you notice anything unusual about him?”
“Well,” she admitted, “he’s a little girly but I expect it’s just because he works with fabric and the few men I know don’t. He probably spends a lot of time with women or something.”
“It’s something like that. Mind if I explain some other time?” Chad stood and grasped her hand helping her from the booth.
“Sure. Or I can ask him-”
“I’d rather you didn’t,” Chad insisted sadly. “I think you’d make him uncomfortable.”
“I think,” Willow said remembering the walls of glass and water, and the afternoon’s conversation, “I think people overcomplicate things. Let’s go home.”
A very different Willow left the sheep ranch outside New Cheltenham cuddling a puppy and trying out names on her. Chad remembered getting Saige and while Willow hadn’t been ambivalent toward the dog, she had not shown nearly as much interest in that pup as she did in this one. Fluffy ears and puppy breath kept her mind and hands occupied for the fifty miles home.
“She’s a black and white dog…”
“That’s astute of you.”
Willow shoved him playfully. “Knock it off. I think I’m going to name her Portia. She’s as black and white as Portia’s interpretation of the contract in Merchant of Venice.”
“Shakespeare. You would.”
The pup curled into her lap and settled down for a short springtime nap. Every mile that passed seemed etched in the story of their new life together. Both of them could feel the change and yet everything was also the same. Had they tried to explain it, they both would have failed.
At home, the pup bounced around the barn as Willow pulled out the cultivator and then collapsed in exhaustion on a pile of straw. Chad followed her to the field she planned to ‘plow’ and smiled to himself as she cheered at the softness of the earth. “That rain last night helped me sleep well and now look what it’s done. We have easy soil to turn over.”
He’d never seen anything like it. A large wheel propelled prongs that dug up the earth as she pushed it along wheelbarrow style. Chad was sure it was never intended to replace a regular plow but of course, Willow and her mother had no way to get gasoline for fuel powered machines. After seeing her fight and struggle across the short side of the field for several minutes, he called her to him.
Uncertain of how committed she was to her old-fashioned ways of doing things, he jammed his fists into his pockets and stammered ineffectively a few times. “I was thinking-”
“Chad, what’s wrong?”
“It’s killing me to watch you work yourself like that. You could plow that whole field in a few hours instead of a week if you had proper tools.”
“What’s wrong with my cultivator?”
Frustration nearly overcame him but he kicked a dirt clod with his shoe and continued as calmly as he could manage. “It requires so much of you Willow. You’d be done with that row by now if you had a motorized one. It’d save so much time and hard work-”
“But what would I do with all that time I saved?” The question was more of a tease than a serious inquiry.
“Spend it with me, for one thing. You could just double your production with half the work.” As a concession to her lifestyle, he added, “If not motorized, then we at least need two of those things so we can take turns breaking ground and following behind. I assume it’s going to take more than one pass…”
“Where can we find one of these motor ones you’re talking about. Maybe we can use the motor for the first pass and then mine for the second.”
Excited, Chad hugged her and pulled his keys from his pocket. “I’ll find one to rent. We can see if you like it.” He kissed her briefly and jogged toward the barn and retraced his steps. “I think that was a little weak…”
***
By the time Chad arrived with a tiller, Willow had made two full passes across the field. She watched as he started the tiller and slowly, yet much more quickly than she’d managed, made a full row across the field. After about twenty feet, she grabbed her tiller and followed. Chad was right. It was much easier to follow after the machine broke ground first.
At lunch time, Willow, covered in dirt and sweat, scrubbed in the summer kitchen, made two huge sandwiches and poured the last of the lemonade into glasses. Seated on the back porch feeding scraps to the pup, she turned to an exhausted Chad and began discussing the tiller. “Ok, so how expensive are those things? Would we need to own one when once this is tilled it’ll be easy to do again? What about-”
“Woah. Lass, we don’t have to make a permanent decision on one of these things today.”
After another bite, Willow continued her vocalized thought processes. “Well, I keep thinking of the gas. It’d become expensive to use it for something so easy to do-”
“Easy? It’s brutal. I almost ached just watching you force that thing through the dirt.”
“It’s work. Work is hard. I don’t understand why it’s so bad?” The confusion in her voice was familiar- and genuine.
Chad’s fists found his pockets again making her smile. “Willow, we were brought up in entirely different worlds. Where you did whatever was necessary, no matter how physically taxing, my friends and family looked for the path of least resistance to get the same job done. You made your candles, we bought ours. You hand tilled your acres of soil, we rented one of those things for our flower beds.”
“And worked more hours somewhere else to pay for it?”
His shrug told her he wasn’t angry at her. Her observations were valid and he found that as he considered it, accurate. His father had traded one kind of work for ease in doing another. Both were still work and his father had chosen the work he enjoyed most which was exactly what Willow did every day.
“You’re right. I think I understand now.”
“Well,” she said rinsing her glass in the sink and washing her hands. “I don’t. That’s ok, I’m getting used to it.”
“You’re right. Dad did the work he preferred in order to make work he didn’t enjoy easier. You’re doing the work you prefer. I wasn’t brought up to enjoy it so I naturally try to find a way to make it easier.”
It was a huge breakthrough in understanding for both of them. As much as they enjoyed their relationship, there were aspects that required both of them to step back and consider that there was another way to see the situations that would arrive. Neither way was necessarily superior but what was familiar was usually preferred and their comfort zones were on nearly opposite poles.
“I think it’s simple,” Willow finally said.
“Oh you do?” The amusement in Chad’s voice wasn’t lost on her but Willow chose to ignore the initial feeling of patronization.
“Of course. When I’m working alone, I do what is familiar and comfortable for me. When you work with me, you do what you do however you prefer. Why should either of us overhaul anything? Doing both worked for the field. It’ll work for other things too.”
Chad grabbed his gloves and pulled them on as he led her out of the barn. “Why didn’t someone tell me I was marrying a practical genius?”
“Simple.”
He eyed her warily. “Oh?”
She took off running toward the field. “They didn’t want you to be jealous!”
***
Willow heard the bathwater running upstairs and smiled to herself as she fried chicken. It felt almost like ‘old times’ when she’d make dinner while Mother bathed. How Chad could stand laying in water that slowly grew cold, she’d never understand. Her hair still dripping after her own shower, Willow rolled her shoulders stretching out the kinks that occasionally tried to form in them.
The kitchen felt warm. They’d have to eat on the porch. Willow had already noticed that Chad felt the temperature extremes differently than she did. What she considered comfortably warm or cool were hot and cold to him. She tossed a salad, sliced bread, and jumped as Chad’s arms wrapped around her waist.
“That was sneaky!”
“And after the mud clod fight, you deserved sneaky.”
“How was I supposed to know you’d never had a mud fight?” The innocence in her tones didn’t change the mischievous look on her face.
“I can’t believe you and your mother used to do stuff like that. At your age!”
“Mother said we shouldn’t give up our favorite fun just because the calendar told some people we were too old for it.”
Chad popped a cherry tomato in his mouth and collapsed in the rocking chair exhausted. “Mother was right.”
Willow turned, her eyes slowly filling with tears. Deep sobs welled inside her and then wracked her body. She sank to the floor in front of the kitchen sink lost in grief that Chad couldn’t understand.
For several minutes, he held her, hushed her, wiped her tears, and then held her some more. Nothing he said or did helped to calm the emotional torment that had overcome her. The chicken burned, Chad tossed the pan in the sink, and still Willow curled into a ball, her back to the sink, and sobbed until her heart was empty.
“I’m-” she choked back tears. “I’m sorry about the chicken.”
“What’s wrong Lass?” He hated seeing her like this. She hadn’t cried so hard in months.
“It’s silly. I feel so stupid.” New tears, quiet ones, spilled over her cheeks splashing onto his hands.
“I still don’t understand-”
“You didn’t say your mother this time. You just called her Mother. It felt like you finally became a part of my family too instead of the other way around.” She blushed at his look of incredulity. “I told you it was silly.”
Truthfully, Chad would have had to admit he did think it silly but the pain and happiness that blended around her eyes couldn’t be ignored. How he should have realized his use of pronouns when referring to her- no, their mother, would make him seem distant or uncaring was beyond his comprehension. Generally Willow didn’t seem embroiled in the emotional mind games that many women of his acquaintance enjoyed but this time, she seemed a master of irrational emotions.
“I know I would have loved y- Mother, but Willow, I never knew her. I often think of her as just ‘mother’ but other times-”
“I’m sorry,” Willow jumped to her feet brushing away her tears. “I know it’s crazy but I always feel like I’m continually taking and never giving anything.”
“You gave me you. What more could I ask for?” He brushed her hair away from her face and his heart ached at the sight of her puffy eyes. “We’ll get to know your grandparents, aunt, uncle, cousins- you’ll see. I got a new family too. You just don’t know them that much better than I do is all.”
She gave him a half hearted smile. “I also gave you a charred meal. Every bride’s nightmare eh?”
“How about a trip to town and dinner at the Coventry?”
“Deal.”
Chad waited until she stood and then added, “And then when we get home, I’m going to whip your bum in Yahtzee.”
“Don’t you mean-”
Chad snatched the kitchen towel and snapped it after her as she raced toward the stairs. “Get up there and get changed woman!”
Caution: This chapter is not necessary to the advancement of the story but it is necessary to the thoroughness of it. Younger readers might choose to skip it. There is nothing detailed or graphic in the least but there is a short conversation that surrounds a mature topic that I tried to handle in the most discreet way possible. Skipping this chapter will not ruin anything for anyone.
Sunday afternoon, Chad snoozed. His crazy work schedule, the past few month’s stresses, and the plans for the wedding all hit him at once. Mid sentence, he’d just stopped talking. Completely. Willow watched him sleep for several minutes and then slipped from the living room.
Outside, she took a deep breath. She knew he needed his rest as much as she needed time alone to process the past twenty-four hours. She missed her mother. She needed someone to talk to and yet wanted no one around her.
Shrugging off her unsettled spirit, Willow went straight for the washing machine and slowly loaded it with tablecloths checking each for stains before she dropped it into the machine. In no time, the kitchen hummed with activity. She assessed the food situation, froze leftovers, and rearranged things to her personal preferences. In the greenhouse, she tended the plants, reordered the place, and found a few plates and things that had been stashed by someone at some point.
Next, she folded tables and took them to the barn. There was a perfect place high above the kitchen to store them but Willow wasn’t sure how to get them up there. Instead, she stacked them all in one stall and all of the chairs in another. There was no way she was going to attempt to climb a ladder pushing a table.
Finally, she grabbed her tool belt and gloves, retrieved a roll of wire, and took off to fix the cut sections of fencing. Chad awoke to see her out by the road wiring the fence back together in the afternoon sun. His chuckle would have confused her. Only Willow would spend the first afternoon of her honeymoon repairing fences when no animal needed them.
He pushed the screen door open and then paused. Maybe she needed a little time alone. Her world had been turned upside down in the last year and in the past twenty-four hours, exponentially. His parents had worried about how their relationship would work and Chad, once again, was amazed at how God definitely worked in their life to ensure everyone’s good.
While watching Willow as she worked, Chad flipped open his phone and dialed his parents’ number. “Mom?”
“Chad! We didn’t expect to hear from you so soon!”
“Is Pop there?” Marianne assured him that Christopher was with her. “I wanted to thank you guys for everything yesterday. Especially when it was all up in the air. I was able to do my job because I could trust you to take care of everything else.”
“Oh Chaddie, you could have missed your own wedding!”
Christopher made hushing sounds. “But he didn’t, he’s fine. Just be thankful.” To Chad he added hesitantly, “Everything ok there?”
“Sure pop. We-” Chad cleared his throat. “Well, we had kind of a long day yesterday- all those people, and then kind of a late night so I took a nap this afternoon.”
Marianne and Christopher didn’t speak but their eyes communicated verbosely. “You all right son?”
“Um yeah! I’m great actually. Willow seems to have taken my naptime and put it to good use. The tables are out of the yard, she’s probably washing linens, and right now, she’s out fixing fences.”
Marianne’s face fell. Christopher put his arm around her and tried to stifle the sigh that threatened to escape. “I knew you guys would have the world’s most unusual honeymoon.”
“Yeah.” Chad’s parents couldn’t understand the lack of disappointment in his voice. This must be so hard for their son. “Well, I should get out there and help her or she’ll be antsy all night thinking about the work that wasn’t done.”
Chad grinned to himself knowing what his parents must be thinking. “I just wanted to invite you to come out any weekend- well, maybe not next but anytime after that. We have enough room you know. Cheri can have ‘her room’ and the spare room mattress is comfortable as you well know.”
“We’re not going to kick you out of your room, son. We can visit without staying overnight.”
“Oh no problem. You wouldn’t be kicking me out of my room. I’m pretty sure Willow would have serious objections to giving up her bed.”
With that, Chad said goodbye and clicked the phone shut. What he would give to see his parents’ faces right now. While in Westbury, the elder Tesdalls hugged one another in joyous excitement, Chad slipped out the front door and started down the driveway meeting Willow half-way. She smiled as she neared. “Afternoon Chaddie.”
Chad pulled her close taking her tools and wire from her. “You could have woken me lass. I’d have helped.”
“You needed your rest.”
They walked up the drive to the barn. At the barn, he dropped everything and pulled her close. “I am a very happy man.”
“That was the goal,” she replied impishly.
***
Chad’s Argosy Junction CD played in his laptop as they ate dinner. Willow toyed with her salad picking chicken pieces out and then dropping them back to the plate. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know.”
As he ate his own salad laden with leftover chicken from the previous night, Chad tried to imagine what could be bothering her. “Well, if you don’t feel like eating, how about a walk?” Her shrug was less than encouraging. “Play a game?”
Chad didn’t know what to think. Why was she so out of spirits? Had he offended her? Should he ask or would that make it worse. Women got that way sometimes. If you didn’t know why they were irritated that just made the situation worse. He glanced at her. No, Willow wouldn’t be like that.
“Have I said or done something that bothers you?”
Her eyes flew up from her plate. “Of course not!”
She took a bite as if to assure him she’d be fine. It only unsettled him further. In desperation, he clung to the only thing that he could think might be the problem. “Um, would you rather I make up the bed in your mom’s room?”
“No!” Willow stood and shoved back the chair. “That is-, if you think that’s best, then fine but don’t do it on my account.”
“I’m trying to understand what is wrong but I’m failing here.”
“I don’t know, I said. I wish I did so I could tell you but I just don’t know.”
After he carried his empty late to the sink and reached automatically for a towel. The edge left the air in the kitchen as they worked silently together to put the room back in order. Once finished, the unsettled feeling shrouded Willow again and Chad noticed immediately.
“I’ll go milk Ditto.”
“Why don’t I do that and you relax?”
Chad started to protest but the disappointment that crept into her face stopped him. “You’re probably right. I think I’ll take a shower.”
While lathering and rinsing Chad prayed. As he dried off, realization dawned. He remembered Willow after his nap, during kitchen clean up, and the change that came over her as she strolled to the barn for Ditto’s milk pail. He tossed the Dockers and button down shirt he’d brought to change into back into the closet and pulled on old jeans and a holey t-shirt.
At the barn, he met Willow carrying the milk pail. “So, what do we do on a spring evening? Hoe? Rake? Sow? Reap? If we reap, do we have to do it grimly?”
“You want to work?” A spark lit her eyes but she quickly extinguished it.
“Isn’t there a lot of work to be done around here?”
“Well-”
Draping an arm across her shoulder, Chad led her into the summer kitchen and began straining the milk. “Look, I think I know what is wrong.”
“Well then tell me, because I’m going crazy.”
“You’re bored.”
“I am not!” she protested hotly. “That’s ridiculous.”
“But you are. You’re used to being very active, even if it’s laying around catching fish. You’re not used to lying around the house doing nothing. You’ve spent the past three weeks doing things that put you behind in your spring and summer work and it’s showing.”
“But this is our honeymoon. Aren’t we supposed to be relaxing?”
Chad poured the boiling water over the freshly washed milk pail and let it drip dry on the counter. He laced their fingers together, and pulled her outside into the evening air. “Some people go skiing, others go snorkeling or mountain climbing. Sightseeing is even exhausting. We’re farming. So what?”
“Well, we do need…”
Her mind went in a million audible directions. Among the things mentioned were another field for more alfalfa, more chicks arriving that week, the need to shear the sheep before the first of June, and a dog house for the new puppy. “Mother never allowed a dog house. She said the barn was sufficient but I always wanted a dog house right under that tree and I’d like to have one. You know how to build things.”
“I can’t believe you refuse to even try.”
“I’m no good-”
His head shook as he interrupted. “Nope, not buying it. You said that about shooting but you worked at it until you were a good shot because you had to. Your mother wasn’t there to do it for you so you worked hard and learned it. Your mother always did well with wood, you found it hard, so you decided to let it beat you because it was less injurious to your pride.”
Her protest died in her throat. She clamped a hand over her mouth and stared at Chad in dismay. “You’re right. I can’t believe it but you’re right.”
“Well, we can’t build a dog house tonight.”
“We can’t plow up a field either. Too much work for so late. We can do that Wednesday. Tonight, why don’t we work outside on flower beds, the garden, rotate the fields for the animals…”
Already, Chad felt lost but his Willow was back. She folded the tablecloths from the line and handed him a new basket. “Why don’t you hang these and I’ll walk around and see what we need to do first.”
Until twilight, they worked. Chad rotated animals and picked weeds in her immense gardens. The space was twice the size of the previous year and it took all evening to get all of the weeds and tomato worms out of the garden working as quickly as he could.
Meanwhile, Willow scrubbed down the porch, weeded the flower beds, and though it didn’t look much different, felt satisfied as moonlight replaced sunlight she stood up and dusted her hands, contented. “Well, that’s a good day’s work.”
“Well, especially for Sunday-”
“Oh!” Willow’s eyes widened. “Mother always thought we should limit ourselves once a week. She wasn’t a strict sabbatarian but she did think a day of less work was important. I just forgot it was Sunday.”
“Well, we did enough. We wouldn’t want to collapse in exhaustion-”
“Oh,” she interrupted excitedly. “But I sleep best when I’ve worked hard all day. Crawl into bed, collapse, and don’t wake up until the sun rises. It’s the best sleep ever.”
Chad’s jaw attempted to drop but he kept tight control over his stunned amusement. As they climbed the steps, he stifled chuckles and tried to think of a way to remind her of other plans for the evening. “I had other ideas…”
“Game?”
“Um-” As delicately as he could, Chad made several suggestions for how they could spend their evening which widened Willow’s eyes to immense dimensions.
“Again? We don’t even know that it didn’t work yet!”
Suddenly, Chad found himself choking on nothing. Several times he tried to explain and each time he began coughing again. Willow watched the procedure with uncertainty and finally resignation. “This is something that I am supposed to know but don’t again, isn’t it?”
Chad nodded. “Remember when we talked about the value of money and you based your opinions on what was worth to you rather than what most people would say?”
“Mmhmm…” The skepticism hadn’t left her voice.
“Well, this is another one of those perception things.” He stammered for a few minutes before he sank into the couch pulling her down with him. “Let’s talk.”
Later, neither of them remembered what Chad said that evening but Willow’s understanding of life and marriage was a little more balanced and well rounded by the time he finished. As he waited to hear her opinion of all he’d shared, Chad prayed. They’d finally gotten past her mother’s fears but had he introduced new ones of his own?
Her voice was quiet and contemplative as she finally spoke. “Well, then does that make it good or bad that I was kind of hoping I wouldn’t be pregnant quite yet?”
The afternoon passed slowly and lazily. Chad seemed happy to rest on the couch or the swing which nearly drove Willow crazy. The kitchens had been cleaned by the caterers and the dance floor and tents were gone along with the horse, but the tables still stood in the pasture. Several loads of laundry begged to be finished but instinctively, Willow knew that this was one day to let it all go.
“Want to take a walk?” Chad recognized the restlessness in her. Willow got that way anytime she seemed to need something she didn’t have.
“Really?” It didn’t take a second urging. Willow jumped to her feet and grabbed his hand. “Where do you want to go?”
“Let’s just walk. I think we both are tired and have restless energy to burn.”
They wandered across pastures, near the stream, and over toward Adric’s land. The scene from the night before kept playing itself repeatedly in her mind until Willow finally decided to ask. “Why were you so upset about that ticket Todd got?”
A deep sigh seemed to overpower him. Chad’s shoulder sagged and he dropped her hand choosing to pull her closer instead. “I’d only been here a few weeks. I was walking the beat- I didn’t mind it so much then- when a car tore up Market Street.” Raw emotion choked him as Chad tried to tell his story. “I- I tried to stop the kid. I didn’t know his name but he was riding a scooter along the sidewalk. Didn’t pay attention to what he was doing and rode out in front of that car.”
“Oh Chad…”
“The speed limit would have done that child some damage but when I heard the sickening thump of that little body against the hood.” Chad stopped and looked down at her miserably. “He wasn’t wearing a helmet. His head-”
Chad shoved his fists in his pockets and started walking again. “I’d seen accident photos, gone on ride-alongs. I’d been trained but no one can truly train you to be prepared for the crumpled body of a child. The irony of it was that the people were speeding to get their own child to the clinic. She’d split her tongue on the docks at the lake.”
“Did the child- make it?” She barely whispered the question.
“Somehow he made it. A broken arm, a broken leg, and more stitches than a child’s head should ever see but he made it. No permanent damage-” Chad smiled to himself. “Except maybe to his brain. He didn’t learn anything from it. Kid still rides around without his helmet.”
“Aiden? Aiden Cox?”
Chad nodded. “I’ve got a soft spot for that little guy.”
Her hand crept up to turn his face to hers. She kissed him lightly and then smiled. “I have a soft spot for you.”
***
They played every game she owned. Twice. They spent unknown amounts of time viewing the pictures in her Viewmaster. The only thing they didn’t do was pull out Chad’s laptop and start a movie.
The clock struck nine-thirty before Chad decided to get the awkwardness over with. “You’re exhausted Willow. Let’s go to bed.”
The panicked look on her face tore at his heart. As much as she tried to trust, Willow was still struggling. He gave her the most reassuring smile that he could, extinguished the candles and turned down the lamps. Once she was safely in her bed, she’d relax and sleep. He, on the other hand, was in for a long night.
At her bedroom door, Chad leaned against the doorjamb and pulled her into a hug. “I do love you Willow. I’m not very good at remembering to tell you that but I do. I’ll be right across the hall if you need me just like I’ve been so many other times.” He kissed her, trying with every ounce of self control to keep her feeling secure and unpressured, turned, and slipped into his room shutting the door behind him.
Willow smiled as the latch clicked shut. His wedding present was in there. She’d been nervous about the gift for the past few weeks. Would he like it? Was it the right choice? Should she have shared it with someone to get a second opinion? It was too late now. The gift was given and she just had to hope he’d enjoy it as much as she’d anticipated.
She grabbed her brush and started working on the nasty snarls that now took up residence in her hair. “Lord, I’m trusting You on this one,” she whispered.
***
Chad gently shut the door behind him and leaned against it. He’d have to open it again before he crawled in bed. Teeth. He’d forgotten his teeth. He started to reach for the drawer with his shorts and sweats and paused. He could shut the door again if he didn’t change in the bathroom.
He opened the door and smiled at Willow as she looked up at him expectantly. “Forgot to brush my teeth.” She nodded and continued brushing her hair, the familiar blue scrunchie wrapped around her wrist as she worked out the snarls. He pointed at her hair. “Sorry about that.”
“I’m good. Almost have them out.”
“I was selfish though.” He started to lean against the doorjamb again and caught himself. He couldn’t get sidetracked or he’d make it worse. “Teeth. I’m going to forget my teeth.”
She nodded absently and went back to brushing her hair as Chad stepped inside the bathroom and closed the door with as much self-restraint as he could. He wanted to slam it. He wanted five minutes alone with either of the Steven Solaris. He wanted- Chad sighed. It didn’t matter what he wanted. He’d made a promise and if he loved his wife- Wife. Wow. If he loved his wife half as much as he claimed, he’d keep that promise and trust the Lord for the rest.
As he slipped back inside Kari’s room, Willow went to brush her own teeth. The sight of the back of her dress made her groan. She’d end up sleeping in this thing if-
Chad’s door opened. She met him at the bathroom door with a smile. “Need something?”
He pulled several gift bows from behind his back and presented them to her. “Mind telling me what these are?”
She brushed past him, barely acknowledging the bows, and shrugged. “Your wedding gift.”
“I found them in my clothing drawer. You know, the one I filled a few days ago and that is now empty?”
“Really now?” Her words were playful but her tone was weak.
He caught her hand and pulled her a little closer. “Where are my clothes Willow?”
She pointed to her bureau. “In there. Where they belong.”
A new expression lit Chad’s face. He released her hand and went back into Kari’s room returning moments later with another bow. “Where are my sheets and pillows?”
“Sheets are in Mother’s closet.” She swallowed hard. “Your pillows are on your bed.”
“Willow,” he insisted with more patience than he knew he possessed, “My bed doesn’t have any pillows.”
Willow’s eyes flitted to the other side of her bed. “From where I stand, they’re right where they belong.” She took a deep breath, gave him a hesitant smile and said, “Is this where I say, ‘Happy Wedding’?”
Birds sang in trees outside the window. A cool but fresh breeze ruffled the curtains and sent her hair dancing around her face. The faint sound of the lowing of a cow hovered around her sub-consciousness. Chickens squabbling in the yard finally woke her.
Sitting up abruptly in bed, she smiled. The wedding- it was today. Tossing the covers back, she raced from her room, across the hall, and burst into the room exclaiming, “Wake up-” Her voice faded into a whisper. “Willow?”
A voice from her parents’ room called, “She got up hours ago. Get dressed, there’s work to do.”
“It’s only eight! How many hours are we talking?”
Christopher opened the door. “She sent me back to bed at six and said to get some more rest. She’d been up for at least an hour then.”
“Where’s Chad?”
“I don’t know, getting dressed?”
“Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhgggggggghhhhhhh.” The wail was infused with a seemingly endless groan. “I’m going to go crazy, I’m sure of it.”
Marianne’s voice echoed through the door. “I want Willow around when Cheri does this or we’ll all go insane.”
Cheri whirled and raced to throw on yesterday’s jeans and t-shirt. She’d need a shower soon anyway. It was time to find Willow and see what needed to be done. Why hadn’t she done a normal church wedding with normal church things?
Downstairs, Cheri hardly recognized the house. Every surface was full of daisies and lilac sprays in mason jars. She started to go outside and then retraced her steps to the staircase. How had she missed swags of tulle heading upstairs? The porch looked beautiful. Tulle and flowers seemed to scream ‘it’s a Wedding today!’ until it made Cheri’s heart ache.
A small table draped with one of the tablecloths Willow had hemstitched was loaded with the gift boxes of lemon marmalade. It looked like one huge present waiting for the bride and groom but Cheri shook her head. No one told Willow they should have gone at each place setting and it was too late now.
A work truck was unloading a pile of boards that Cheri could only assume was the dance floor. Tables were set up under semi sheer tents with just enough shade to keep people comfortable and yet still allow natural sunlight. The Catering truck arrived and Willow emerged from the greenhouse to direct them to the kitchens.
Cheri hurried inside and was surprised to see extension cords running from outlets to the stove. Chafing dishes sat across the covered stove waiting for food and the table was covered with dishes. How Willow had accomplished so much in so little time was incomprehensible to her.
Christopher and Marianne arrived in the living room just as Cheri decided to call for help. “She must be working like a mad woman. She’ll be exhausted and I saw this guy walking around everywhere taking pictures. Is that the photographer?”
“Probably.”
“Well he left!” Cheri’s voice was a cross between dismay and incredulity.
“He’s probably going to take pictures of Chad getting ready.”
“Chad is really getting ready at his house? Are you serious? Doesn’t he know how much work is left?”
Marianne led her daughter out the front door, down the steps, across the yard, and to Willow’s side. “Ok, what can we do?”
Without a word, Willow flipped through her ever-present clip board and handed a sheet to them. “I had to stagger the bathroom. I will need in there by nine forty-five.” She glanced at Cheri. “You did bring the hot air blower right?”
“Air blower?”
“For drying your hair. You said you were bringing it?”
“Oh sure. I brought it.” Cheri shook her head. Air blower. What next?
Willow turned to give directions to someone that neither Cheri nor Marianne could identify and then turned back and smiled. “In the mean time, I have a list of things you can do if you need something to keep you busy until it’s your turn in the bathroom.”
“What time are you getting ready?
“I’ve planned an hour or so. It shouldn’t take that long but you never know what Cheri has planned for me.” Her wink in Cheri’s direction softened her words.
Before they knew what happened, Willow disappeared into the greenhouse, exited near the barn, and followed several people into the summer kitchen. Marianne and Cheri stared at the list divvying it up quickly. By the time Christopher found them after his morning cup of coffee, they were busy covering tables with cloths, napkins, and Willow followed with jars of daisies and lilacs. It seemed like there were flowers everywhere.
The only thing that seemed like it was missing, was Chad.
***
Chad’s phone rang at five forty-three. One look at the number and he flipped it open. “Yeah Chief.”
“I need you in here now.”
“Um, Chief, that wasn’t funny.” Chad rubbed the sand from his eyes.
“I am not joking. Get your sorry backside in here now. I’ve got Joe on a transport, Judith isn’t picking up, Martinez left us short handed, and Waverly hasn’t reported for duty. I need help now. There’s no one on duty.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“It’s just until Joe gets back. That wedding isn’t until eleven. He’ll be back before seven. Does it really take you four hours to primp son?”
Grumbling, Chad grabbed his uniform and hurried into the bathroom. By the time he emerged, Todd was staring at the door in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“That’s what I told the Chief. I’ll be back around seven. Call the house at eight if I’m not back by then and make sure they don’t need anything.”
“Yes Sir!”
Chad ignored the salute and jogged down the steps to his truck. Normally, he’d walk on a nice morning like this but the Chief’s voice still rang in his ears. At the station, Varney tossed Chad the keys to the cruiser and insisted he drive. “I’ll get someone on beat when Waverly arrives. I just checked the schedule again and he’s not supposed to be here until ten. I don’t know how that happened.”
Chad hardly acknowledged the Chief’s words. This was the biggest nightmare that he could ever imagine. If he was late, he’d shoot something even if he had to settle for his paintball guns to do it.
His fingers drummed on the steering wheel as he cruised up and down the main streets, main side streets, and then did a super quick pass to see if things were buzzing at the farm. If the Chief didn’t like it, Chad would be happy to be fired. For the first time, he truly was appreciative of Willow’s money.
He whipped the car around and zipped back to town before it was obvious where he’d gone. The town was slowly coming awake, tourists were arriving for the Coventry’s famous buffets and picnics by the lake. He waved at Alexa who flagged him down in surprise.
“What are you doing in that car Chad Tesdall!”
“It was just the Chief in the station- Joe had to do a transport, so I’m all that’s left.”
“Where’s Judith or the new guy?”
Chad shrugged. “I don’t know. No one does. This is insane.”
“At ten o’clock, you drive out there regardless. I’ll watch the station if I have to.”
Her feisty demeanor made Chad relax. It’d be ok. Something would make it work. The Lord wouldn’t let his day be ruined. Solari was dead, his wife in jail, no new threats on the horizon. It’d be ok.
“Thanks Alexa. I needed to hear you say that.”
“Judith is usually so punctual. Did anyone go over to her house?”
“No, but I will. You’re right. This is highly unusual.” Chad waved and sped toward Judith’s duplex near the lake.
He’d forgotten what a ramshackle old place those duplexes were. Judith bought it with the idea that she could rent out one side and live in the other essentially living rent free. What she hadn’t counted on were her crazy working hours that made it nearly impossible to get anything done. For Christmas three years ago, Alexa had paid to have it reroofed after a particularly bad snowstorm.
His knock produced no answer. Her car was gone, the lights were out- maybe she was at the station and they just hadn’t called him yet. Chad flipped open his phone and dialed. “Chief, is Judith there yet?”
“No. It’s only six forty-five. She’ll be here or Joe will. Calm down.”
“But Chief, she’s never late, she’s not home. Something seems odd about it.”
The chief’s voice sounded strained. “She’s not home? Is her car there?”
“Nope. I don’t know where she is but she’s not here and she’s not where she should be and that isn’t a good combination for someone as steady as Judith.”
“Come in.”
Chad sighed and flipped his phone shut. He debated calling his mother and rejected the idea. She’d flip and then Willow would have more to handle. He didn’t want to worry Willow. She’d become good friends with Judith over the time they’d spent together. Finally, he called Todd.
“Hey, we’ve got a situation here. One of our officers isn’t home, didn’t show for work, and isn’t answering her phone. I might barely make it if we have to start looking for her.”
“Don’t you have to wait twenty-four hours before you can do the missing person’s thing?”
“Just listen,” Chad wasn’t in the mood for Todd’s jokes. “I’m sorry. I just am frustrated, a little concerned, and time is racing. Take my suit to the farm. I’ll get dressed there. When you get there, tell my father, then tell Willow. Don’t say anything to anyone else. If they ask when I’m coming, tell them to remember I’ll be there in time for ‘I do’. It should shut them up.”
“You are seriously playing in dangerous territory. I don’t think even someone like Willow will appreciate being stood up at the altar.”
Chad laughed. “But since we’re partying first, the ‘altar’ can happen anytime so no worries.”
“Like I said, you are seriously playing with dangerous territory. There are two things you don’t mess with women with. One, their wedding, two their weight.”
“See you later.” Chad hung up the phone before Todd made him truly nervous.
***
Christopher’s eyes widened as Todd explained the situation. “Thanks Todd. I’d better find Willow. Let me tell her.”
“Mr. T?”
“Yeah?”
Todd sighed. “I’m really sorry. I don’t want to put a damper on anything but-”
“But you think this is going to be bad.”
“Call him. Talk to him. Maybe you’ll get a different sense than I did.” Todd’s voice was laced with pain. “I know how important this day is to him and he’s going to miss it.”
The phone snapped shut in Christopher’s hand before he realized he’d what he’d done. This wasn’t going to go over well. Not. Well. At. All. He found Willow in the cellar of all places, covering bowls of cut fruit. “Need something-” she hesitated. “It’s almost wedding time, can I just call you Dad now?”
Her words tore at Christopher’s heart. This was going to hurt. “You can call me anything you want but I’ve got some very bad news.”
“The cake is ruined.”
“Worse.”
With a twinkle in her eye that Christopher thought he wouldn’t see for some time, Willow turned it into a game. “Cheri twisted her ankle”
“Worse.”
“Germany opened Auchtwitz again.”
His chuckle sounded strained even to her ears. “Not quite that bad.”
“Cheri slapped Todd.”
“Not that funny.”
“Well,” she conceded. “Unless you’re telling me that Chad changed his mind and has run off with Judith to Bermuda-” The look of horror on Christopher’s face stopped her. “Dad, what is it?”
“Well, it’s not that but it’s nearly that bad. Judith is missing, Joe is out of town, there wasn’t anyone to help the Chief so he had to call Chad in to work.”
“Oh. Well, it’s not good of course but hey, we don’t have a time schedule or anything. We’ll just do whatever we like until he gets here. If it’s time for wedding by then, then we’ll do the vows. If it’s not, then we’ll party some more and then do the vows.”
“It’s a little worse than that. Judith is missing so he could get tied up all day.” At the look of dismay on her face, he hastened to add. “I don’t think it will happen! I really don’t. I just had to be honest with you.”
“Forget about the wedding, Dad! A woman is missing! Do they need people to help look?”
Without waiting for an answer, Willow raced upstairs, up to her room, and shut the door obviously to call Chad. Christopher stared at the light streaming down into the cellar and shook his head in amazement. “Wow.”
***
Judith banged her phone again. The battery must be shot because it’d been fully charged when she left the house. It was cool, she was cramped, and according to the car clock, she was late for work. She’d been sitting in the ditch for hours. The shuttle to Rockland would be coming along in about ten minutes. She planned to use her badge to get a ride. It wasn’t exactly protocol but being late to work on Chad’s wedding day was enough justification in her book.
Thirty minutes later, she walked through the streets of Fairbury, jogging every few minutes, and burst into the station. “Chief! I’m here! I’m so sorry.”
“Where’ve you been!” The chief’s voice thundered from his office sounding nearer and more angry with each step until he stood in the doorway glaring at her. “I’ve got Chad combing the streets for you, Joe diverted to the lake to look for you and I’m sitting here thinking the worst.”
“You know how I’m never late for work? Ever?”
“Mmm hmm.” Varney’s voice stated that he wasn’t impressed.
“Well, just keep that in mind when you sentence me to something horrible. I went to Rockland last night to get a gift for Chad and Willow and my car broke down on the way home.” Judith held up a bag. “Scored a cool gift though. Chad’ll love it.”
The Chief was already on the phone with Chad. “She’s here, safe, and just needs a ride to go home and change and then back again. We’ve got the rest.”
***
The morning was somewhat surreal to him. Chad lived it and yet part of him was detached as though watching from the outside. He realized that this was due to seeing Wes and realizing he was seeing the day through Wes’ lens as well as living it.
The final box was stowed in Chad’s truck at ten o’clock and he and Todd took off for the farm. It was going to be a wonderful day if it killed him. Judith’s gift, still stuffed in a plastic bag and tied with a knot for the ‘bow’ sat next to him on his seat. He wanted that on Cheri’s ‘gift table’ and he wanted Wes to get a good picture of it.
Matt suggested that Chad park his truck on the far side of the goat pen for easy get-away if the occasion arose. Ditto bleated her congratulations and the chickens ran around as though bereft of heads as Todd shouted greetings. Yep. Just another crazy day on Walden Farm.
“They found her?” Christopher met Chad at the back door.
“She walked in a bit ago. She broke down on the side of the road.” Chad pause. “Oh, I forgot. There’s a gift on the seat of my truck. Can you get someone to put it on the gift table? I really need to see Willow.”
“Your mother isn’t going to let you go anywhere near her.”
Chad glanced at his watch. “It’s ten fifteen. When will she be ready?”
“I’ll go ask. Anything else you need to know?”
“Anything need doing? I’ve got thirty or forty-five minutes.”
Christopher’s hand swept the yard. “She’s got a well oiled machine going on here. I’d go sit down and relax. You won’t get to do that again until after you kick us out.”
Through the house and onto the front porch, Chad strolled leisurely to the porch swing. Still holding his jacket over one shoulder, he stretched out on the bench, leaned his head against the chain, and closed his eyes. The heady scent of lilacs filled the air and the sounds of busy workers were muffled only but occasional giggles from Willow’s room.
***
A gentle knock interrupted the curling frenzy going on in Willow’s bedroom. “Willow?”
“Yes?” She didn’t attempt to open the door. Any sudden movement would ensure second degree burns.
“Chad’s here. Everything’s good.”
A sigh of relief escaped. “Send him up.”
“Nuh uh!” Cheri’s indignation was only slightly more vocal than Marianne’s “I think not!”
“Girls! They are going to see each other before the ceremony. That’s how this is working. What’s the big deal?” Christopher knew it was a lost cause but felt obligated to try.
“The big deal is, in a few minutes she’s not going to have clothes on. Now go away.”
A fresh wave of laughter sent Christopher running for his life while Cheri started brushing mineral powder into Willow’s face. “I got this stuff. I spent all week learning how to use it too. They swear it won’t melt off no matter how hot and sweaty you get but I don’t know if I believe them.”
Willow was incapable of reply. Her mouth clamped shut as a brush dusted powder into her cheeks, chin, and across her forehead. As she sat there being converted into Cheri’s idea of the perfect bride, she wondered what Chad was thinking. Had he gotten enough sleep? Was he hungry?
The first words out of her mouth once Cheri wiped her lips with a face wipe were, “Has Chad eaten today?”
Marianne hurried downstairs to ask but the sight of her son snoozing in the porch swing sent her back inside without asking. She saw Wes come through from the kitchen and pointed outside. “Did you get one of him out there?”
“Got several. That was the best picture I’ve ever taken of a groom. I think I’ll call it, ‘Wedding Jitters’.”
Upstairs, Willow smiled to herself as she heard of Chad’s catnap. Marianne caught the look and beckoned Wes upstairs. “Before you change Willow, I want Cheri to touch up anything she can so we can get a few pictures of you getting ready.”
“Can we get your bouquet in here?” Wes spoke between shutter snaps.
“Bouquet? There are jars of flowers everywhere. If you want one in here, maybe Dad could run down and grab one from the living room?”
“No, the bouquet you’ll carry. Where’s that and I’ll have Dad find it.” As she spoke, Cheri tweaked a tendril into a perfect spiral down one side of her face.
“Oh, like Aggie’s for covering the kiss? We’re not covering it. Chad didn’t like that idea.”
“You’re supposed to carry one just because you’re a bride and bride’s have bouquets.” The tone of disgust in Cheri’s voice was barely disguised. “Didn’t you read those magazines?”
“Cheri!”
“I’m sorry. I really am but it gets frustrating not knowing which thing won’t happen next.”
Willow turned understanding eyes to meet Cheri’s. “I guess now you know how I’ve felt all these weeks. You wonder what won’t happen and I wonder what I’ll offend everyone over because I didn’t know I had to do it or be offensive.” She fought back tears. “I did read a lot of those magazines and I kept reading, over and over, ‘This is your day. Own it. Make it a reflection of you and your groom’s tastes. Challenge the norms but don’t deviate so far from everything that is familiar that twenty years from now you wonder what you were thinking.’” She swallowed back choked words and tried to smile. “I did what it said but I guess I didn’t choose the right things to focus on.”
Cheri’s arms wrapped comfortingly around her shoulders. “Ignore me. I have pre-wedding jitters and I’m taking them out on you. I’m just sure something major is going to happen. I can feel it.”
“It did but it’s over now. Chad’s here. If Judith hadn’t shown up, we might have just had a big party with no host. Relax!” Willow’s laughter drifted to the porch below and brought a smile to Chad’s semi-conscious face.
“I’ll make a bouquet. Give me a minute and I’ll be right back.”
Hands reached for her but Willow hurried downstairs in robe, flip-flops, and with perfect hair and make up. The sight was comical to the catering staff and Lane standing at the sink shook her head. “Need something?”
“I just have to run down and get some flowers for a bouquet. Oh. Ribbon.” She paused as though in a quandary. “I need ribbon, wire, and scissors. Drat.”
“Tell me where to find them and I’ll bring them down. You need to hurry. I saw two cars arrive a minute ago and you’re not even dressed.”
“How long does it take to step into a dress and pull up a zipper?” Willow shrugged and then explained where to find what she needed.
“Toolbox by the door, on the shelf to the left. Ribbon is on the spool rack. White satin and golden sheer. Got it.”
While Willow pulled daisy stems from the leftovers in the barrel, Lane dashed upstairs waving the group hovering around the doorways for Willow’s return. “She forgot ribbon and wire.”
“Forgot! Yes!” Cheri pumped her fist jubilantly. “A real bride at last.”
“Well honestly Cheri, she didn’t plan to make a bouquet at all so last minute, this is putting a lot of pressure on her.”
Wes cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I didn’t mean to make trouble. I just assumed…”
“It’s common around here. No worries. If Willow was adverse to flowers, she’d have said, ‘Sorry, I just don’t see a reason to waste my time making something I’m just going to throw away.’” Cheri assured him in a perfect imitation of Willow’s confident tones.
“I think I’ll run down and get a picture of her going up the stairs in that robe. That’s the kind of thing that usually makes for the most fun pictures.”
Wes followed her upstairs getting a perfect picture of her pedicure as he placed his camera lens between the railings. Upstairs, she waited as Cheri tried to recreate the dressing process. The stiffness was creating awkward and obviously posed pictures until Christopher started cracking jokes in the hallway. He recommended beauty marks, warts on noses, and told Cheri to try the Goth look for herself causing Marianne to threaten to bar the door.
Cheri handed Willow a bag the moment she finished additional tweaks to the bride’s face and hair. “Put these on, step into that dress, and call me. I’ll lace you up.”
Once the door shut, Willow pulled out undergarments that she hadn’t expected. What on earth- how did you hook yourself into something like this? For several minutes she fought to hook and tie everything until she was going insane. Finally, she stepped inside the dress, pushed her arms in the sleeves, and called for Cheri.
“You’re going to have to hook that thing up. I can’t do it.”
Her instructions were unnecessary. Cheri was already hooking the corset and then lacing her into her dress. “This is incredible. From the back you look amazing! How can anyone look that good from the back?”
Willow caught her reflection in the mirror and stared. “Well, I don’t look that bad from the front but I’m not sure how decent I look.”
“It covers. That’s what counts.”
“Well, I’d better not bend over or dance with anyone very tall, that’s for sure.” Her tone was more uncertain than her words. Willow looked very uncomfortable. “I don’t understand. I tried this on four days ago and it wasn’t a problem.”
“You left your bra off. Good undergarments make the outfit as you can see.”
“As everyone can see.” She hesitated and then called for Marianne. “Mom, I need an opinion in here!”
Marianne gasped as she opened the door. “You look-” Tears welled up in her eyes. “Oh Willow, my Chaddie is going to be so stunned.”
“She’s concerned about stunning other men. She thinks it’s indecent.”
“Wes is still, ready to take a picture of you in your room in your dress. Want me to call Christopher back up here and what he thinks first?”
“Please.” The pleading in her tones wasn’t lost on anyone.
“Willow,” Cheri began. “You don’t have to do this. You can take it off.”
“Do you know how hard it is to get out of this dress?”
“Do you realize you can’t do it without help? You are so busted girl.” Cheri thought to herself. “Well, regardless, you look great.”
“That she does. Chad should be seeing this.”
“Any minute now!” Marianne’s voice was excited. “I see a couple of cars out there already. I think one is the Finleys. I’m looking forward to meeting them.”
“Ok, well then, it’s time to do this thing.” Willow grabbed a hidden loop under the dress and hooked it over her wrist. “So I don’t step on it,” she explained to confused faces.
“Do it when you’re already down there. Wes’ll want good pictures of that train. It’s not long but it’s so gorgeous-” There was a dreamy note in Marianne’s voice. She hugged Willow and then cupped Willow’s face in her hands. “My son is blessed. I am blessed.”
“Mom! Cut it out. You’re such a sap.”
Christopher, while the women emoted all over one another, woke up Chad. “Son, she’s coming down. You don’t want to miss this.”
He stretched, slid his arms in his jacket, and then Chad stepped inside the door just in time to see Willow turn the corner at the landing. The woman who stood there was everything he expected and nothing he’d imagined. She was Willow- yet she wasn’t. The Policeman’s ball had been a cheap imitation in comparison.
“Wow.”
To everyone’s surprise and delight, Willow did not continue walking slowly down the steps. She raced down the final steps and hopped in front of Chad with a bounce. “Happy Wedding? Is that what you say?”
“Most people say ‘congratulations’ but that’s to the bride and groom from guests. I think brides and grooms are supposed to say ‘wow’ and after that, ‘I love you’.”
“I love you,” she whispered. “I’ve already made a lot of mistakes today. Don’t need to mess up that one. Why didn’t you tell me I needed this bouquet?”
Knowing she wouldn’t understand him, Chad leaned down and murmured in her ear, “Why didn’t you tell me I’d need a defibrillator?”
“I don’t know what is? I can send someone-”
Chuckling, he pulled her closer and whispered, “I’ll explain later. No worries. Let’s go greet some guests.”
***
Though unplanned, a receiving line formed near the entrance to the pasture. Chad and Willow stood with the rest of the Tesdall family and Willow’s grandparents, greeting and introducing everyone. At first, the guests were restless and awkward not quite sure what to do but Chad noticed and grabbed Willow’s hand.
“Looks like it’s time to have the first dance! Um, before we do, I want to say a few things.” He smiled down at Willow. “Any of you who know Willow, understand why things are so different around here today. Those who don’t, you will; I promise. Children, behind the barn over by my truck, we have gunny sack races, spoon races, a huge bucket of bubbles and all sizes of bubble wands. Enjoy yourself and don’t forget to drink but-” Chad’s voice took on the tone he used with wayward children in town while on the beat. “Leave the animals alone. You can look at them, ask an adult to ‘introduce you’ to them, but don’t tease them or we will have you sit with your parents.”
His face split into a huge grin as squeals of joy followed children around the barn to the play area. “That worked. Ok, we old folks have about an hour to dance, visit, take a tour of Willow’s farm, whatever you’ll enjoy. Listen to Lane and Tad of Argosy Junction or meet new friends and catch up with old ones. We’ll be eating at noon. For now, I’m dancin’ with the most beautiful woman here.”
The words of the song washed over them as Chad led her to the dance floor and two stepped around it with Willow resting her head on his chest.
“No other love can warm my heart… Now that I know… the comfort of your arms. No other love… Oh the sweet contentment that I find… in you. Every time… Every time… No other lips… could want you more…”
The floor filled slowly with other dancers. Around the floor the group spun to the tight harmony of the song. By the second number, the ‘reception’ came alive. Laughter and discussion filled the floor and occasional laughter drowned out the singers much to Willow’s irritation. Marianne and Christopher glanced around the pasture as they danced at all of the guests and their eyes spoke the words in their hearts. “This day is really here. Chad is getting married.”
Wes captured each moment of the hour. Universally recognized as one of the best photojournalists in the country, the skill he used to capture an entire historical event with one powerful shot translated exquisitely into the ability to freeze random moments for future generations to feel as though they were guests. Somehow, with precision lenses, digital technology, and an impeccable eye for when to capture a moment, Wes’ pictures would show the dawn of a new generation of Tesdalls.
After her third dance, Willow slipped from the tents to the back of the barn, threw the hem of her dress over one arm, allowed Ellie to tie their legs together and raced across the course in a three legged race. Tavish and Laird beat them by a good length but they were far ahead of the rest of the racers. Chad climbed into a gunny sack and silently challenged Willow to a race. The children all stood back on each side of the course and chanted the name of their champion. The adults followed the sound of the children’s cheers and arrived in time to see Todd drop the flag.
Immediately, the race was neck and neck. Across the field they hopped, Willow pulling ahead and then Chad. A titter rose from a small group near the finish line when Chuck commented dryly to Cheri, “The wedding isn’t even over and they’re already in the sack.” Half the group missed the finish line when Chuck screeched and bent over clutching his leg compliments of Cheri.
Clueless about the latest “Majors gaffe” Chad lunged across the finish line just a second before Willow dove with every ounce of energy she could muster. Chad saw her heading for the ground and rolled ensuring she landed on him rather than skidding across the grass. “You almost got us killed!” he gasped laughing.
“Killed?” Willow panted and forced herself to sit up.
“You nearly turned your dress green!”
Blushing, Willow stepped out of the bag. Throwing her arms up in the air, Willow declared to the stunned crowd. “I couldn’t just let him win without trying!”
Promptly at noon, filled plates were served by the caterers. Pastor Allen called everyone to attention and then requested that the Tesdall’s pastor, Vince Lanzo offer thanks for the meal. Vince stood, wove through the tables and reached the table where the Tesdalls and Finleys sat together near the greenhouse.
“This is an amazing day. Let’s pray.” Vince’s voice grew thick and quavered with repressed emotion. “We want to thank you Lord for this day, this food, and most of all, the reason that we’re here. Guide our paths to stay in Your ‘narrow way’ and ‘may the words of our mouths and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in Your sight. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”
Willow and Chad waited for Vince to leave before eating but he urged them to go ahead and eat. “I have a few words I want to say and I don’t know when I’m going to get to talk!” Laughter rippled through the crowd once more. “I’ve known Chad since he was still in elementary school. My family has watched him grow from a sensitive little boy who just wanted to be like his father to a man who knows his own mind and,” Vince paused smiling down at Willow who was oblivious to his scrutiny, “obviously his own heart. I remember his summer in The Pit. He thought he’d failed himself, his church, and especially his Lord. He never saw the strengthening of his faith during that time but the rest of the church did. A few years later, Cheri went through the same experience and we all hoped he’d see how much he’d grown through it by seeing her growth but all it did was show the rest of us how deep his new relationship with the Lord was. He never thought of himself during that time. His concern was for Cheri. That was when I knew that he’d be an excellent officer.”
Chad’s face whipped up from his plate where he’d spent several embarrassed moments eating and trying to ignore what felt a little like a eulogy that should have been saved for his funeral when he could no longer hear it. “I thought you disapproved? You seemed to try to talk me out of it-”
“I tried to help you solidify your own decision Chad; I never meant you to think I disapproved.” Vince took a deep breath and continued. “Through other difficult times in Chad’s life, I watched how he clung to the Lord through his faith. Chad has a quiet faith. You won’t find him preaching to people but his life is a sermon. I wondered what kind of woman he’d marry. Already I’ve seen in Willow exactly what Chad needs.”
To Willow, Vince gave an apologetic look and shrugged. “I really didn’t think it was possible that you were good enough for him. I worried that he was making a mistake and even that maybe he was rushing things. I was torn between trusting that he knew what he was doing and wanting to beg him to take his time and be sure. I’m so glad I chose to trust.”
The faint clinking of silverware on dishes were the only sounds audible as Vince struggled. An emotional man, his congregation was accustomed to these stretches of silence and the tears that often ran freely down his cheeks. He looked and sounded like a Chicago street fighter and had the tender heart of a child. “I want to ask everyone here to pray for this couple. Pray that their hearts and minds would stay fixed on Jesus and committed to one another. Thank you.”
Chad nudged Willow and gestured for her to watch as Vince reached his wife Lisa’s side. “They are so in love- so united. I wish you could know her.”
“Maybe I will. And maybe,” she added, “You’ll tell me about ‘the pit’. I am so confused.”
“Someday. I’ll talk to Vince about it.”
***
Bill sat with Lee Wu saying little and observing much. The day was harder on him than he’d expected. When he arrived and saw Willow shaking hand and hugging people ahead of him in line, he’d nearly turned around and returned home. One look at Chad’s face, however, had changed his mind. This was a very good thing for Willow and if he cared about her half as much as he thought he did, Bill knew he couldn’t begrudge their happiness.
Lee saw the occasional pain in Bill’s eyes and understood. The dance floor began to fill again as Lane’s voice called everyone to dance again. “Would you like to dance?”
She whipped her head toward Bill. “Are you sure-” That wasn’t a very tactful beginning. “I’m sorry, you just seemed a little- preoccupied.”
“I am but-”
Frankness seemed the only out for both of them. “But you’re having a hard time not being the groom today. Come on, I’d love to dance.”
Willow’s eyes lit up at the sight of them but Lee prayed that Bill wouldn’t see it. They didn’t speak and the dance wasn’t a waltz leaving Bill unable to do more than rock from foot to foot for most of the dance. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I only know how to waltz,” he admitted when the song finally ended.
“You were being thoughtful when you really didn’t feel like it. That’s commendable not condemnable.”
The curricle dropped Chuck and Cheri off again and waited for the next load, this time three of Aggie’s children climbed aboard. Willow watched the children excitedly bouncing on the seat and marveling at the beautiful horse and thanked the Lord that she’d found someone to offer the rides. Chad had seen it as unnecessary and she knew he indulged her only out of indifference himself.
Once the tables were cleared, the caterer called for Willow and Chad to cut their cake. Everyone toasted the bride and groom, ate their cake, and seemed antsy to get the ceremony rolling. Cheri pulled Willow aside and whispered, “Let’s get you upstairs, freshen you up, and we can start the procession.”
In the house, Willow laughed as she stared at her reflection in her mirror. “I am a mess! How funny.”
“You should be a mess. Gunny sack races and three legged races? In that dress? You’re insane!”
“But it was fun,” Willow protested. “I thought the point of the wedding was to have fun?”
“If Chad hadn’t ruined his shirt back, your dress would be toast.”
Willow was confused but pulled the pins from her hair, brushed it and then held her head for Cheri’s magic. A second brush of minerals across her face gave her a fresh look. “It’s amazing how different I look with that stuff.”
***
Aggie’s girls raced ahead of the group scattering hundreds of daisy heads and lilac flowerets across the path to Kari’s grave. Cheri, carrying a bouquet she hadn’t expected after the morning’s scene, strolled along ahead of the girls on Christopher’s arm. David Finley took Willow’s arm but stopped before he took the first step.
“Are you sure? Why don’t I get the guy with the horse- you’re going to ruin your dress…”
Willow glanced up into the face of her grandfather and saw behind the emotion in his eyes, how difficult this day was for him. His daughter had never married, he’d never walked her down the aisle. “Chad?”
He was closer than she expected. His voice answered near her ear, “Yes?”
She whirled and smiled up at him. “How strong do you think you are?”
Without answering, Chad lifted her and carried her for twenty or thirty feet. “Well, I’m about that strong,” he gasped setting her down for a moment. “However,” he continued in a strained voice as he lifted her once more and threw her over one shoulder, “I’m fairly certain I can get you there this way.”
Their guests laughed at the comical expressions she made as he crossed the pasture and then set her down at the foot of her mother’s grave. “Just a few more minutes,” he whispered for her ears only.
Pastor Allen stood and called the unusual ‘congregation’ to attention. “I’ve never attended a wedding at a gravesite. A few people told me they thought it was morbid and one dear friend even expressed concern that it was evidence that Willow wasn’t ready for this step in her life.” Tom’s eyes met many in the group standing all around the bride and groom. “I disagreed. Anyone who knows Willow, knows how close she was with her mother. They know how unusual the relationship was and what an unusual perspective our Willow has on life. What seems odd to most, is perfect for her.”
Chad’s arm slipped around her shoulders as Willow impatiently brushed aside rogue tears and Pastor Allen continued. “Willow wanted to feel nearer to her mother today. She knows that her mother isn’t down beneath our feet but we humans seem to feel closer to those we’ve lost when we are near where their ‘temple’ is buried.
“So, for those who are confused or uncomfortable, remember how it was to have your parents or those closest to you from your childhood at your wedding and extend a little grace to our sister. I for one, think this has been a wonderful day and definitely a wonderful beginning to their new life.”
From the back of the group, Lane and Tad Argosy watched for the sign from Tom and led the guests in singing, O Perfect Love. Willow, unsure the best hymn to pick, had left the choice with Marianne unaware that her new mother would choose a song that she’d never heard. Her eyes spanned the singers listening carefully until they met Chad’s as he sang the final line of the first verse.
“… whom Thou forevermore dost join as one.”
As the song ended, Pastor Allen wiped tears from his own eyes and remarked, “I’ve been around Vince too much today. He’s rubbing off.” Tom cleared his throat and added, “Now I need to make a final comment before we pray and then finally tie this knot! After the exchange of rings, I’m going to pray, we’ll excuse Chad and Willow who will meet you at their front porch to say goodbye. Please don’t go straight to your car. They have a gift for you and would like to thank you for coming individually. Let’s pray.”
The next few minutes passed for Willow in a golden fog that she later remembered perfectly as though an observer rather than a participant. Chad’s vows were made in his low and earnest tones sending tears down his mother’s face. Willow spoke quietly but confidently as she promised to trust the Lord and her husband in the years to come.
To everyone’s delighted surprise, the kiss came with no embarrassment, no attempts at concealment, and though applause at weddings wasn’t the custom at Fairbury Community Church, no one could resist when Chad picked up his bride, spun her in a circle still kissing her excitedly. His first words, before Pastor Allen could even introduce them as Mr. and Mrs. Chadwick Elliot Tesdall were, “I can’t believe it! She’s actually mine!”
***
They sat in the porch swing and watched amused as people gathered around the improvised ‘gate’ to the pasture and waited for Matt and Todd to bring their cars. Chad toyed with her single tendril and sighed contentedly. “That was a wonderful day.”
“The day isn’t over yet. It’s not even three o’clock yet.”
Something in her voice touched him. “Happy?”
“Definitely. You?”
The swing creaked as he shifted and turned her face toward his. “Never doubt it.”
A slow smile grew as she watched him. “Your mother is right.”
“How’s that.”
“You are a sap.”
“Me,” Chad protested. “That is a definite pot calling the kettle black.”
“I’m not a sap.”
“No,” he conceded. “But my mother is and you will be.”
She didn’t answer. She curled against his chest and rested her head in the crook of his arm. After shifting twice, she sighed and sat upright again. “Dumb hair.”
“Get it down then. I’m amazed that you’ve put up with it this long.”
“Well,” she hedged. “I know Wes is still around taking pictures…”
“So he gets pictures of you with your hair down. Who cares?”
That’s all she needed to hear. Willow wanted nothing more than to be herself, toss the hair, and relax but she’d already bucked enough traditions that she wasn’t willing to risk hurting anymore people with her unconventionalities. In just a few quick movements, she pulled a dozen pins from her head and shook out her hair.
“I need a brush. I’ll never get it braided with these curls.”
“Leave it then. Who needs a braid?”
Willow shook her head emphatically and started to braid her hair, sloppily but efficiently. “It’ll be a rat’s nest in no time if I don’t.”
Chad’s hands captured both of hers and held them in one hand while the other untwisted the plaits. “Then it’s a rat’s nest. I like it like it is.”
“Do I have to change too?”
“Do you want to?”
“No way!” Willow loved how she felt in her dress. The cool layers, the yards of fabric swishing around her feet- it all made her feel feminine and beautiful. She didn’t want it to end. “I love wearing this dress. I may put it on now and then for the fun of it.”
Suddenly, before Chad could respond, Willow sat up. “I have to do something. Be right back.”
“Want some help?”
“I’m good, but thanks.” Just inside the door, she peeked her head out again. “Want some lemonade when I come back?”
Chad removed his tie, unbuttoned his top shirt button, and removed his suit jacket. Lemonade. Things were already back to normal.
The Tesdalls spent Friday morning and early afternoon in town so Chad could sleep in peace. While he slept, Willow took her phone, his phone, and her baskets and boxes to the greenhouse to pick greens and tomatoes for the caterer. She gently layered tomatoes, laid damp towels between rows of lettuce in boxes, and cut spinach. Jill would be disappointed but at least her guests would eat well.
She heard a vehicle in the driveway but didn’t pay any attention. It’d be the Tesdalls returning from town. However, a gentle knock and Adric Garrison’s voice startled her seconds later. “Willow? Do you have a minute?”
“Come on in! I’m just picking produce for the caterer.”
“I almost didn’t stop- I mean, I know you’re busy but I have a bit of problem.” There was a tense undertone to Adric’s voice that hadn’t been there the previous morning.
“Oh no, I’ve got a free afternoon. I have things to do later this evening and in the morning but right now, I’m just passing the time until Chad gets up. He got off at six this morning so he’s sleeping now.”
“Well, then I’ll just come out with my dilemma then. I called Renee Freeman in town about how to find out how I can divvy up my property. I know that there are laws about that sometimes, and she got all excited because apparently she knows the man across the highway and he’d tried to buy from my grandmother for years.”
“So,” she concluded dejectedly. “You’re here to withdraw your offer.”
“No!” Adric’s face flushed. It looked strange to her against his silvery gray hair. “I told Renee not to mention it to him at all. I don’t want it getting out now because if you want the property, I just want to have a quiet sale between us that no one finds out about unless they publish that kind of thing?”
“I don’t know but you know, my money isn’t listed in my name. If we buy it, it’ll be sold under that name so no one will know who bought it even if it is published.”
Pleased, Adric smiled. “I have a call from Bill at the office. He offered a price I think sounds excellent for both of us so I’ll ask Renee to draw up papers for me.”
Willow’s face showed agitation. “I- well- How long have you done business with Renee?”
“Never before today. Granny did. Her will was filed with Renee and I talked to her through the probate and trust exchanges but-”
“Well, she’s my lawyer too. I don’t know if she can represent both of us.” Before Adric could respond Willow shook her head. “I’m being ridiculous. Bill will know a good real estate lawyer to handle the sale and then we can turn everything over to Renee after it’s all done.”
“Do we need a realtor?”
“I don’t see why. Mother used to say that people were fools to buy property without a lawyer so who needs a realtor if you know who is selling and buying?” She glanced out the greenhouse windows looking for Adric’s car. “Where is Rebecca?”
“I came by on my lunch break. She’s at the house probably bored stiff. There isn’t much for her to do at my place.”
Eagerly, Willow suggested that he urge her to visit. “She can help me with the garden, animals, and things like that. It’ll be fun.”
“You wouldn’t mind?”
“Of course not! Just have her call so if we’re gone she doesn’t waste the walk.”
This amused Adric. Of course Willow Finley would assume that someone would just cross property. The fact that it’d take half an hour or more would never cross her mind.
“I really appreciate it. The other women- they had things they did- work, hobbies, came to work with me even but Rebecca seems a little lost or something.”
“Do you mind if I ask a personal question?” The opportunity was too great to ignore it. At Adric’s encouragement, she asked him about his situation. “Are you glad you’re doing this?”
“Usually. Month three I would have said no.” Adric leaned against a nearby worktable, his arms crossed, and observed Willow as they talked.
She continued with her picking, cutting, and replanting. “Mind if I ask what happened?”
“She was more concerned with winning the ‘contest’ than winning me. I was glad when she left a little early.”
In a moment of insight, Willow brushed off her hands and briefly hugged Adric. “You’re very alone in this, aren’t you? I mean, I know Pastor Allen and Lily are family but they have to be neutral. It’s like asking Switzerland for help in choosing allies. They can’t or their neutrality is in question.”
“I am very alone and yet, I have the Lord, a few friends, and truly, in a pinch Lily would definitely be there for me.”
For several more minutes, they talked about his hopes and dreams, her life on the farm, and how successful each thought Adric’s search for a wife would be. It was a casual and comfortable exchange that left Adric sorry that he hadn’t met Willow earlier. Much earlier. It also encouraged him to realize that he hadn’t been wrong to continue. Until someone intrigued him as much as Christine and Willow did, he needed to keep searching.
She walked him to his car talking and encouraging him. He rolled the window down and thanked her for encouraging him. “Thanks- not just for buying my property, but for talking to me. I wish I had met someone like you a long time ago.”
“You have friends here. Come anytime. Even if it’s just because you need a break from the strain of constant ‘get-to-know-you-it is’. It must be wearying.” She laid her hand on his arm. “I’ll be praying.”
Adric turned around and drove down the driveway watching her from his rearview mirror. He sighed. “Wow.”
***
Chad stirred. One glance out the window told him it had to be around noon. The only sounds in the house were those that floated in through open windows. Willow must have been on one of her ‘fresh air’ kicks. Even in the dead of winter he’d arrive midday to find a window open in one room or another to ‘air it out.’
He stood, stretched, and glanced out the window. Another thought occurred to him. In a few weeks or months he could be sleeping in that room. Which side of the bed would he get? Feeling foolish but curious, Chad climbed back into bed and crawled out the other side glancing out that window. This time, he noticed Adric’s car in the driveway.
He dressed quickly. Maybe Adric already had a price on the land. That’d be nice; Willow wanted it and as much as it rankled that he couldn’t get it for her, she could afford it. This was going to be good- long term anyway.
In the kitchen, he found a sandwich in the ice box and a glass of lemonade. Grabbing both, he stepped onto the porch. Willow and Adric were in earnest conversation in the greenhouse. Chad chewed slowly and watched as Adric leaned against a shelf and crossed his arms. This was turning out to be a long conversation.
When Willow wiped her hands on her work apron and hugged Adric, Chad guzzled his lemonade, shoved his hands in his pockets, and leaned wearily against the post. Irrational thoughts of bursting into the greenhouse and ordering Adric from their property tried to force their way into his mind; only sheer willpower kept him from losing all control.
As he saw them leaving the greenhouse, Chad slipped back into the house and watched from the window. The earnest look in Adric’s eyes, Willow’s hand on Adric’s arm, and the way she stood waving as he drove down the driveway nearly drove him insane. He debated going back upstairs or to the kitchen and finally chose the kitchen.
As he waited to see if she returned to the house or the greenhouse, he thought about his reaction. He knew he was feeling ridiculously possessive. There was no excuse for some of the thoughts that were trying desperately to take up residence in his heart, and yet, they were and denial wouldn’t change that fact.
The screen door opened with a squeak. It’d be squeak free in less than a minute or he’d eat his badge. “Chad! You’re up! You just missed Adric.”
Unaware that she amused her still agitated fiancée, Willow reached into a box just inside the pantry door and pulled out a can of WD-40. “Forty-five seconds,” he thought to himself as she replaced the can and shut the door. “What did Adric have to say?” Chad winced. He knew his voice sounded odd.
“What’s wrong?”
The temptation to blame it on nerves, fatigue, or even her money was tempting but Chad knew he needed to be honest. “Well, actually, I saw he was here when I got up.”
“Why didn’t you come out and talk to us?” Willow quickly washed his plate and glass as they talked standing each in the dish drainer as she finished.
“I think Shakespeare called it a green monster.”
“Green-eyed monster is jealousy. Othello.” She glanced at him curiously. ”You were jealous? Of what?”
Hands stuffed in his pockets, Chad mumbled something but she didn’t hear what it was. Willow did know, however, that no matter how irrational he seemed to her, brushing him off was not going to solve anything. She slipped her arms around his waist and clasped her hands together around his back, pressing her cheek against his chest.
“Adric Garrison is a fine man. I think he’ll make some woman very happy.”
“But not you.” The words were not as confident sounding as they might have been just two days earlier.
“Definitely not me. I don’t think there is a man alive that I trust like I know I can trust you. I wouldn’t feel safe.”
Chad’s hands toyed with her braid as a sigh of relief escaped. “It’s crazy I know, but I needed to hear that. I just realized that I haven’t seen you with any man since we got engaged. I think I panicked seeing you hug another man.”
“Well, then I won’t,” she murmured into his shirt. “Not if it makes you uncomfortable.”
Gravel crunching and car doors heralded the return of the Tesdalls and Todd. “Let’s go make plans for tonight so they’ll leave you and your calmness alone.”
“I have to finish up the stuff for the caterer and then call. The clipboard is on the table. Assign jobs and everything should work.”
As the kitchen flooded with chattering family, Willow kissed his cheek and slipped out the back door. In the greenhouse, Willow watched as Chad directed his family and Todd to set up tables and chairs, direct the moving of animals, and everything else on Willow’s carefully planned lists. Everything was going as planned, and now that everyone was busy, they didn’t seem to have time to become overly concerned with her calm demeanor.
Finished, she dialed Maitre ‘d to arrange for them to pick up the vegetables. “They’re boxed and ready to go. You can get them-” she hesitated as she saw Cheri ordering Todd from her work decorating the porch. “Hey, to save you time, why don’t I send someone to meet you at that little park place between Fairbury and Rockland?”
“The Rest Stop?”
“Yes. Exactly. His name is Todd, he’ll be driving a green pick up truck. He’ll be there in however long it takes someone to drive there from here but don’t hurry. Please.” Willow’s voice took on an edge of desperation.
“Got family causing trouble?”
“Something like that. I’ll send him right out but please, just go when it’s convenient. I’ll remind him about Rockland traffic and all.”
Willow grabbed the first box and carried it to Chad’s truck. Seeing her carrying boxes, Cad left the table and chair brigade and met her in the greenhouse. “I thought they were coming to get them?”
“I decided to send Todd to meet them at the rest stop. It’ll give Cheri a break.” Chad’s laughter annoyed her. “You might tell him that he’s not ten anymore. He’ll have a better shot of being her friend if he quits treating her like a likeable pest.”
Work went much more smoothly with Todd gone. Torn between seeing what Chad saw in his friend and understanding Cheri’s utter dislike, she spent the afternoon working, laughing, and planning ways to get both people to look beyond themselves and encourage the other person. By dinner time she was famished.
“What do you want to do for dinner?” Marianne was excited. Finally Willow forgot something! “We can order pizza or if you think we have time, we could go into town to a restaurant-”
“Oh, I have a container of chili. I was just going to heat it up and have bread with it.”
“Argh! How about we do something spontaneous- just because we can. Ok?”
“Um, mom?” Chad’s voice was a little cold. “Why is it a crime for her to be prepared? If she was sitting around drinking lemonade and filing her nails you’d be going nuts.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just so unnatural!” Marianne smiled at Willow apologetically. “I am used to seeing brides flipping out because they forgot to buy nylons or the marriage license is lost.”
“We need a marriage license?” Willow’s face was horrified. “We need to get permission to get married! Chad!” Willow turned a stunned and angry face toward him. “Why didn’t you tell me! I can’t believe this. This is insane. I quit. Have this wedding but have it without me!”
She turned slowly to face the stunned group of Tesdalls and grinned. “There. Was that panicked and stressed enough for you?”
“Oh you are going to get it for that!” Cheri reached for the hose. “Dad turn it on.”
“Nothing doing. I have to share a bed with your mother tonight and by the look on her face, it won’t be pretty if I do.”
“Coward.”
Christopher nodded sagely. “That I am. When it comes to pranks in the dark, I’m terrified. Last time I crossed your mother, she poured warm water over me while I was sleeping. I woke up mortified.” He shook his head. “I must be nervous. I can’t believe I just admitted that.”
“Ok, so dinner,” Marianne continued still laughing at Willow and her husband.
“I want to take everyone out to dinner,” Christopher insisted. I haven’t gotten to do much for this wedding and this is something I can do.”Willow nodded. “Can we drop chili off at the Allens then? There is no way Chad and I are going to spend every day next week trying to eat up that chili.”
***
Night fell, and Willow, pushing the garden cart, walked along the drive, and set mason jars tied with yellow ribbons at the top of every fence post. She’d fill them with cut flowers after she milked Ditto the next morning. Chad, after sending the chickens to bed and giving the animals more water, hurried to help her.
“One more night and we’re finished.”
Laughter rang out across her pastures. “What a flattering picture of marriage,” Willow teased.
“You know what I meant.” He looked down the highway. “I wonder what is taking Todd so long.”
“Well, I told him they might not be there. He probably had to wait.”
“You told them to take their time so he’d be away for a few hours.” The words were almost an accusation.
“Yes. And tonight, while you guys are supposed to be sleeping, you can give him hints on how to treat the younger sisters of best friends.”
Headlights appeared around the bend. Chad’s truck turned into the driveway and sped toward them sending dust everywhere. “Oh ugh!” Willow was not impressed.
“Hey guys! What’d I miss.”
“Lessons on how to drive for starters,” Chad began.
“Um yeah. About that…” Todd shuffled his feet awkwardly. “I um, wasn’t paying attention to speed as I drove through town and a chick cop ticketed me. She sent you a message.”
“You got a ticket in my truck!”
“That’s kind of the message. She said, ‘tell him I suggest he reconsider who he allows to drive his vehicles through town!’ I think she was ticked.”
“Y- T- I cannot believe you did that! Children play in the streets in the evening Todd! There are speed limits for a reason!” Chad’s anger surprised both Todd and Willow.
“Sorry man, I just wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t want to miss any more of the fun.”
“Well you’re going to. We’re leaving.” Without another word, Chad hugged Willow, jumped in his truck, pointed to Todd’s rental car, and said, “Follow me. And I do mean, follow. As in, drive like I drive. At the same speed. Watching for who you might kill in the process.”
Willow waved as they drove away knowing there was more to the story than she knew but eventually he’d share. Meanwhile, she finished her job and pulled the cart back to the barn.
***
The house was silent. From her mother’s room, Christopher snored almost exactly as Chad did on nights he slept in there. Cheri hadn’t moved in hours. The moon shone brightly through her window and yet Willow lay awake refreshed just by lying down and relaxing. She new it must be nearly two in the morning.
Throwing the covers back, she slipped on her flip-flop slippers, found her summer robe, and tied it securely around her waist. As quietly as possible, Willow tip-toed downstairs, out the front door, around the barn, and across the pasture to her mother’s grave. In just a few hours, big sprays of lilacs would cover those headstones.
She leaned her back against Othello’s headstone, wrapped her arms around her knees, and pulled them to her chest. “Lord, I keep wondering what Mother would do or say if she were here now. Would she like Chad? Would she be willing to have a man move into our home? Would I have had to leave this place? Is this why you took her from me? Did she have to go in order for Your will to prevail?”
Her words were hardly a whisper. The damp grass beneath her was strangely comfortable. She remembered other nights sitting in the grass under the tree near the house.
“Mother, why can’t I sleep?”
“Because sometimes your body forgets what to do to refresh you.” Kari didn’t know how to answer the question and hoped her inquisitive daughter would be satisfied with the answer.
“I like the moon.” Willow’s childish voice held that special trace of awe that only children seem to experience.
“I do too. It’s almost like God’s nightlight.”
“What’s a nightlight?” At nine, Willow had never heard of such a thing.
“Well, people who have electricity in their homes are used to light to help them see everything so sometimes they put tiny lights in bathrooms or hallways so that they can see where they’re going to find the light switch.”
“Oh. Don’t their hands know where to find it? I think my hands know where to find ours and we never use them.”
Kari’s hands rubbed the chill from Willow’s. “I think it’s just a comfort thing. Some children are afraid of the dark so they use nightlights to show the child there is nothing to be afraid of.”
“Why are the children afraid? Dark is when I can best feel God. It’s when I can ‘be still.’”
All the times that Kari doubted were washed away in moments like this. “I think maybe some of the children don’t know about God and how comforting He is. I don’t know about the other children. Maybe they find God best in the light.”
“Oh.”
Cicadas sang, a nearby toad croaked, and the leaves above them rustled. “Mother?”
“Hmm?”
“I never want to leave and live were I might forget to hear God in the stillness and the darkness.”
Throat swollen with fear and emotion, Kari tried to speak truth rather than the terror in her heart. “Someday you might not think that Willow girl. Someday, you may decide you want a different life than I chose. You may want to have friends, get married, and have children.”
“But then I wouldn’t see you. You don’t want people here.”
With a sigh, Kari forced down her rising panic. “You’re right. I don’t. But you could live nearby and visit often.”
Small arms wrapped around her and gangly legs crawled into her lap. A sweet, clear, confident voice insisted, “If you don’t want people, then it will stay just you and me. We’re happy. I’ll always be happy as long as I have you.”
Willow sighed. She’d been so unhappy when her mother died. She remembered the ache that nearly suffocated her so many mornings. She remembered feeling like she was floundering with every change in her life. Missing her mother wasn’t something Willow ever expected to go away. She knew that there was a part of her heart that only Mother could fill but she was grateful that the Lord had brought friends who would tomorrow become family to fill the rest of the emptiness.
Her thoughts turned to Chad. Sometime before tomorrow evening, she’d stand here and promise to trust him. The fear those words once enveloped her in was gone. Uncertainty crept in at times but for the most part, Willow felt a soothing sense of confidence when she thought of a life with Chad.
The memory of nightmares and his comforting arms around her bolstered her nerves until she remembered the occasional unexpected twisting in her stomach at his touch. Was he right? Was fear not the cause?
“I love him Lord. I don’t know what ‘in love’ means really. People talk about it and books expound on it like it is some mystery that reveals itself to you. Well, I don’t feel very enlightened so I doubt I am but-” She hesitated. Praying for something so unfamiliar was a terrifying proposition but Marianne’s flashing eyes at Willow’s foolish ideas, her gentle expression as she assured Willow that love was worth it, and Chad’s assertion that things would be as wonderful as they allowed them to be spurred her onward. “-please teach me to love him as he should be loved. Please eradicate my fears and give us whatever we need to develop a relationship like Marianne and Christopher’s. Chad deserves no less.”
She stood, brushed off the wet grass from her robe, and started back toward the house. “Oh, and Lord, please let him like his gift. I can’t forget to wrap it in the morning.”
Warning: Mush alert. Bleh
A strange car crept over the driveway Thursday morning. Chad, outside tying a scraper to his truck bumper, recognized Adric Garrison’s Shelby Mustang and waved. Adric helped a pleasant looking strawberry blonde from the passenger seat and then led her to Chad’s truck. “Chad. I came to talk to you and Willow about something. This is Rebecca Jacobs.”
“Rebecca. Nice to meet you. Are you both coming Saturday?”
Rebecca and Adric exchanged glances. Finally, Adric shrugged. “We hadn’t planned to- I mean, I know the church was invited but I didn’t want to presume-”
“Well, we hope you’ll change your mind. Come on in, I’ll find Willow.”
While Adric and his companion made small talk with Marianne and Christopher, Chad went upstairs to find Willow. He paused in front of her door hesitantly. Her door was never closed. Finally, he knocked. “Willow?”
“Oh, come in.” As Chad entered, he saw Willow wrapping four boxes on her bed. “I was just wrapping gifts for your parents and my grandparents.”
“Why presents for them?”
“Well, I got gifts for Christopher and Cheri, why not your parents? They’ve done so much for this day and my grandfather is going to do the walking thing and I just thought-”
Chad tugged on her arm. “Well, can you leave them for a minute, Adric is here.”
“Adric…” she thought for a moment and then smiled. “The girl-of-the-month-club man?”
Barely stifling a guffaw, Chad nodded. “He wanted to talk to us.”
“Why not just do it at the wedding?”
“He wasn’t coming but he is now. I think he wasn’t sure if Rebecca was invited.”
Willow stopped at the top of the stairs. “Rebecca? Is she Miss May?”
“Yep.”
Before she took another step, Willow looked up at Chad with sorrowful eyes. “Do you think this is worth it? Is finding the right woman worth all he’s going through?”
“‘He who finds a wife, finds a good thing and obtains favor from the Lord.’ Why wouldn’t it be worth it if the Word says it is?”
Marianne started upstairs to hurry Chad and Willow along but seeing Chad kissing his fiancée apparently oblivious to anything around him sent her hurrying back downstairs with a blinding grin on her face. “They’ll be down in a minute. Why don’t I find something for you to drink?”
“We’re fine Mrs. Tesdall.”
Christopher, anxious to see what had set his wife glowing, suggested that he show the couple around the farm while they waited. “I’ll be right behind you. I just have to ask my wife about something.” The second the couple stepped off of the porch, Christopher threw up his hands. “What is it woman!”
“They’re kissing! Right upstairs! Really, truly kissing. It was so cute.”
A slow smile spread over his face. “As in making out or just kissing.”
“Oh you are bad. I’m thankful for anything. Get out there.”
***
“So how many acres do you have and how many do you want?”
“I want to keep around ten I think. That leaves over one hundred acres- I can’t remember. I thought we had one-sixty but my sister thought it was one-twenty so we have to get out the deeds. Before I go to a realtor, I wanted to talk to you.”
“Why me?”
Adric shrugged. “Christine, from February, she thought that the people closest to the property might like first chance at it. Since you and Chad were from church I thought I’d come to you first.”
Chad interjected before Willow got too interested. “And you don’t have a price in mind yet?”
“I have no idea what land around here sells for but I’d want to be sure it was a fair price for both of us.”
Willow smiled brightly and offered Adric her hand. “I want to talk to my financial guy about it and then I’ll call you back. Maybe you and he can talk about it on Saturday.”
As they watched Adric and Rebecca drive away, Willow nearly bounced. “I could triple crops! I’d own the stone table! We could have more animals- even a horse for you. Didn’t you once say you liked horses?” Her eyes grew wide. “Hunting! There’d be even more room for hunting!”
“You really want to do it?”
“If Bill thinks it’s a good idea, why not?”
This side of Willow, Chad found incomprehensible. Her drive to work, more and more, drove him nearly insane and yet he loved it. Her enthusiasm for life was infectious even if impossible to fathom at times. “Tell Bill you want the land. He’ll be sure to get it for you at a reasonable cost.”
“But I don’t want it at Adric’s expense. He needs a reasonable price or his inheritance will be wasted.”
“You’re a good woman Willow,” he sighed. “A lousy business person perhaps, but a good woman.”
She whirled, pointed at the large letters emblazoned across her chest, and grinned. “You can flatter all you like but it won’t do you any good. I’m TAKEN.”
“And don’t you forget it.”
A sigh escaped before she could stop it. “I guess I’d better get back to wrapping.”
“Why the sigh, lass?”
Something about his tone of voice nearly sent her over an emotional cliff. “I just want it over.”
Chad wrapped comforting arms around her. “You’re not enjoying yourself?”
“Not really. I would be if everyone didn’t expect me to be a nervous wreck. It’s making me crazy how they keep wanting me to go crazy.” Choking back tears, she added. “And I hardly get to spend time with you. I’m near you all right but rarely with you. It’s like we’re companionable strangers. I hate it.”
“I think that’ll change now.”
“Really?” Even with the skeptical tone in her voice, she perked up slightly. “Why?”
“Mom caught us at the top of the stairs. The look on her face says she’ll leave us alone to make out anytime we even hint at it.”
A deep blush stole across her cheeks. “Oh my!”
“You ashamed of your unseemly behavior?”
“I am not unseemly!” she protested hotly. “I can’t- oh you’re infuriating.”
“And you like me that way.”
Willow ran her hand along his jaw and then shivered. Chad’s eyes grew concerned and he caught her hand in his. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know how to explain it.” Her voice was nearly a wail. “Sometimes it seems like I need to be close to you and then when I am, I’m terrified.”
He led her up the drive talking quietly an trying to soothe her jumbled spirit. “What are you afraid of, lass?”
“I don’t know. You’d think it’d make me push you farther away but it doesn’t.”
“Well I’m glad of that!”
Her next words were illuminating, however. “I just don’t understand how I can desire that closeness so much and then when I have it, feel so- so scared. My stomach clenches and sometimes,” she blushed and hoped he wouldn’t feel badly, “I even feel weak like when you kiss me.”
The familiar deep rumbling chuckle surprised her. “Lass, that’s not fear.”
“Feels just like I do when someone startles me or like when I saw that man in my house!”
“But you don’t want it to go away like you do with those things.”
Wide eyes flew to meet his. Willow was astounded that he’d guessed what bothered her most of all. “How did you know that!”
“It’s not fear but it is encouraging to me anyway.”
“I just don’t understand.”
Chad wrapped an arm around her waist and steered her homeward. “You will. Sooner than I thought it seems. I think it’s time I quit handling you with kid gloves.”
“Do what?”
With a quick kiss witnessed by Cheri, Christopher, Marianne, and Chuck as he turned into the driveway, Chad crawled inside his truck and waved her into the house. “I’ve got work to do. We don’t want to be responsible for ruining everyone’s shocks.”
Willow turned a stunned face to her future in-laws. “We’re shocking what?”
“Oh, we’re shocked all right,” Cheri remarked dryly while crossing her arms.
***
A voice outside brought a mixed reaction from everyone in the kitchen. Willow, slicing bread in the kitchen, watched confused as Chad raced out the door, Cheri groaned, and Christopher and Marianne smiled indulgently as they chuckled. “What?”
Before anyone could answer, Chad’s voice shouted, almost as angry, “Todd you old dog!” Concerned, Willow raced to the living room window, the bread knife still in her hand, and stared as Chad tackled a man in her front yard.
“Should we be alarmed?”
“It’s just the pest,” Cheri said disgustedly. “I’m going to go wash up.”
“What- Oh, Todd. Is that Chad’s friend?”
Marianne nodded. Watching the ‘boys’ wrestling on the lawn as they’d done years ago in grade school, warmed her heart. “They’ve always been like that.”
“Why doesn’t Cheri like him?”
“Well,” Marianne explained gesturing toward the kitchen, “For years she was the pesky little sister and then sometime around the time she turned fourteen she was the cute perky little teen. By the time Todd realized that she was a girl, Cheri could barely tolerate him. She’s been a little unforgiving but since he really did terrorize her as a kid, we haven’t pushed.”
“I don’t think I like children,” Willow muttered under her breath. “They’re cruel.”
Marianne hugged her briefly. “You will. And I think you’ll work harder than I did to teach them differently. When my kids were small, people kept saying, ‘They’re kids, they’ll grow out of it’ or ‘boys will be boys’. I didn’t know how to work on their hearts. You will.”
Chad burst through the door calling for her. Willow shrugged and handed Marianne the knife. “It’s not like he doesn’t know where I am.”
“He wants to show you off.” Marianne brushed a stray hair out of Willow’s face and smiled. “Go hang on Chad a bit. It’ll make him feel wonderful.”
Taking Marianne’s cue, Willow entered the living room wiping her hands on her apron and smiling. “You rang?”
Chad’s arm slid possessively around her. “This is my Willow. Willow, this is Todd. I told you about him.”
She extended her hand to Todd but smiled up at Chad before welcoming him. “I’m very happy to meet you Todd.”
“Wow, Chad.” Todd fumbled over himself for a moment. “I just- wow. Nice to meet you too Willow. Sorry I- wow.”
“I get that a lot.” She looked confused. “I’m not sure why-”
Todd arched an eyebrow. “Well, I’d volunteer to explain it but I think Chad’d try to pummel me and then I’d have to defend myself and who needs a black eye on your wedding?”
With a tone of utter incredulity, Willow remarked, “You either severely underestimate Chad or you have a higher opinion of yourself than you ought.”
She kissed Chad’s cheek and went back to the kitchen shaking her head. As she took the knife back from Marianne, she groaned. “I think Cheri has the right idea.”
Christopher’s guffaws brought the men in and Cheri down from upstairs. “What is going on in here?”
“I just said that I thought you had a point regarding Todd and your father went nuts.”
As soon as she said it, Willow clamped he hand over her mouth and stared in horror first at Chad and then at Todd. “I still haven’t gotten used to keeping what’s in my head out of my mouth. I was rude. Please forgive me.”
The last few words were drowned out by the uproarious laughter in the room. Todd shook his head, tears of laughter running down his cheeks. “No harm, no foul. I deserved it.” He pounded Chad’s back and said, “Man, you got yourself a live wire. I love her already!”
Tires crunched on the driveway again before anyone could reply. Chad glanced out the window and saw an unfamiliar mini van. “Anyone expecting a silver Town and Country?” When no one acknowledged the question he hurried down the steps and out the front door. Seconds later, he called for Willow.
At the bottom of the porch steps, Chad shook hands with a woman who seemed near Willow’s age, and two men. “Lass, this is Lane and Tad Argosy and their friend Matt Rushby. Matt is from Rockland.”
“Happy to meet you! Come on in, we’re about to have soup and sandwiches for dinner. You’re just in time.”
Lane’s hands flew up defensively. “Oh no, we didn’t come to intrude. We just wanted to see what we’d need for tomorrow. We’ve found that sometimes we need battery packs for mics and stuff.”
Chad ushered them into the house. “Nonsense. You’re here, we have food. Come in, we’ll get you a bowl and plate and then after dinner, we’ll show you around.”
***
“Over in that pasture are my sheep and the beef cow. I’m going to be buying more property in the next few months so I’ll probably have more sheep then but nothing like you I’m sure.” Willow chatted amiably with Lane and Matt as they wandered the farm showing off the garden, greenhouse, and animals.
At the mention of a border collie, Lane went into rhapsodies. “Our border is the sweetest girl. You’ll love them. Boozer races-”
“Boozer?”
“Long story,” Lane assured her. “Anyway, you won’t be sorry. So how long have you lived here?”
“I was born here.” Willow pointed at the window to her mother’s bedroom. “Right in that room in a thunderstorm.”
“Wow. I didn’t know people outside the Brethren did that anymore”
“The Brethren?”
“The church group we were a part of years ago. I don’t like to talk about it but not having someone other than your spouse seeing your nether regions other than in life-saving occasions became one of the ‘rules’. There were lots of rules.”
Willow shrugged. “I think Mother would have preferred to have someone with her.”
Lane glanced around the yard taking in the chicken, the garden, barn, and fields. “I didn’t realize places like this existed around Rockland. It’s like being home.”
“She’s used to big sky and lots of land. Rockland is too cramped for her style.” It was the first time Matt had spoken; Willow had almost forgotten he was there.
The back door banged open and Cheri hurried out to walk with them. “So Matt, how do you like Willow’s place? I still can’t believe you know the Argosy’s.”
“You know Matt, Cheri?”
“Where’ve you been Willow? We talked about Matt from my church all through dinner.”
“Maybe,” Lane commented dryly, “It had something to do with answering four phone calls, keeping everyone in food, and attempting to eat her own meal.”
“That might do it.”
“So, how does it look?” Matt’s question was directed to Lane as she watched Tad and Chad discussing placement of a comfortable spot to sing.
“I think they’re being silly. All we need is one corner of that porch out of the way of the door. We’re background music and dancing music, we’re not ‘performing’.”
Willow whistled for Chad and beckoned him. “I should have called to ask. I could have saved you a trip but I think I’m glad I didn’t. It’s been nice to meet you.”
“What do you need lass?”
“Lane suggested we give her the north end of the back porch. They’ll be shaded, comfortable, and out of the path of marauding stampedes who want nothing but more food or a trip to the bathroom.”
“Weren’t you-”
“I think it’s the best place. I love it. Will you see what Tad thinks of it?”
Matt and Lane watched as words flashed between the couple unspoken and their eyes met. They understood that kind of silent communication. Each look, each hand gesture- all spoke volumes without benefit of vocal cords or even demonstrated affection.
“Where are you all staying?” Willow’s words jarred the group from their ruminations.
“At Matt’s. We’ll be here by nine on Saturday unless you need help before that.”
Before Willow could answer, Matt interrupted. “I could direct traffic- where is everyone going to park?”
“I’m going to cut the fence wires half way down the driveway and then I’m going to have people park there. It’s fairly level and I’ll just fix the fence later.”
Matt was already shaking his head before she finished. “I’ll come out with Tad and Lane. I’ll be your own personal valet service.”
“I don’t-”
“Trust me. I know what I’m doing. I’ve done valet for odd jobs during Christmas since I got my license.”
“Thank you then. Thanks.” Willow looked around the group awkwardly. “I don’t know what else to say.”
“Thank you is sometimes all it takes. You’re welcome.” Matt’s eyes reassured her as he took Lane’s hand and wandered back to Tad, climbed into their vehicle, and drove back to Rockland with the promise of early arrival on Saturday morning.
***
Chad drove in at two a.m. Seated in the rocking chair in the kitchen, Willow held a muffin and a hot cup of coffee out to him. “Hungry?”
“Get up.”
Without thinking, Willow stood and then laughed as Chad sat down pulling her into his lap. “I kind of understand your complaints lately. People are everywhere. Omnipresent. I miss you.”
“We get every day from Saturday through next Friday. I keep banking on that. I’m not used to so many people around me. I need space.”
“Are you going to need space from me?”
“I doubt it. You’re gone at work enough for me to get more than enough space but I was with Mother all the time and I never got tired of her. It’s just ever-present people.” Willow laid her head on his shoulder and curled against him.
“Four hours. Just four more hours and I’m free.”
Unable to resist the temptation, Willow shook her head. ”Free? I thought you were getting chained down, knotted, and stuff like that?”
“You, lass, are incorrigible.”
“I try.”
Willow’s phone rang but Marianne snatched it up. “Chad, don’t call. You can’t talk to her tonight. She’s ours.”
“Mom, the Confectionary called. They want her to call them but for some reason, they can’t get through.”
Marianne sighed and handed the phone to Willow. “You have exactly two point five minutes. Go.”
Unsure how serious to take Marianne, Willow answered the phone abruptly. “What do you need?”
“Gee, I love you too.”
“Knock it off; your mom is glaring at me. What do you need?”
A grin split his face. Willow intimidated by his mother was something he’d give anything to see. “The Confectionary wanted to do the cake in regular icing but it’s not working so they want permission to use fondant. I thought that stuff tasted nasty but they swear theirs is delicious and if someone would run down there right now, they’ll give them a taste sample to bring to you. Then you can call and let them know. They’re way behind on in now but the decorator had been certain she could do it the other way and now she can’t.”
“That’s a lot of ands,” Willow commented, her head spinning. “I’ll go down. Thanks. Bye.”
The room stared at her in shock. She glanced around trying to understand the looks shooting at her from every direction. “What?”
“I’ll go down, thanks bye?” Lee Wu’s voice was appalled. “Can’t you at least sound loving even if you won’t say it?”
“Never mind. I’ll be right back. There’s a cake issue.”
“You are not leaving here!” Marianne’s voice startled the whole room. “This is just a plot to get her out of the shower, I know it.”
“Mom, this is Willow. She doesn’t play those kinds of games.”
“No, but Chaddie does.”
A collective titter rose with echoes of “Chaddie?” in the mix. Willow stood, undecided, and then called Chad back. “Your mother thinks this is a ploy to get me out of the shower.”
“Pass the phone to mom.” Chad relayed the situation to his father as he waited for Marianne to take the phone. “Mom, what is this about you accusing me of conspiracy to defraud shower attendees?”
“I know you-”
“Not as well as you think. I thought you said this was a personal shower.”
“It is-” she began triumphantly. “I know exactly how excited Willow-”
“Mom. Forget her for a moment. I’m your son. I’m your husband’s son. I’m a man. Why on earth would I sabotage a personal shower?”
Marianne clicked the phone shut. “You can go. Cheri, go with her. It’ll help keep her from getting stuck there with a million other questions.”
Laughing as they walked down the street in flip-flops, their hair in towels, and green gook smeared across their faces, Cheri and Willow hurried to the shop ignoring the strange looks they received from passersby. “We’re here!”
“Willow?”
“See,” Willow said nudging Cheri. “I told you they’d recognize me.”
“You’re the only one I expected…” Carmen passed a plate with two pieces of cake on it. “That one is the fondant; that is the icing. It won’t look good with icing but…”
“The fondant is fine, don’t you think?” Willow held a fork to Cheri’s mouth.
“Works for me.”
“We’ll take the fondant. Whatever you think is best. Just make it good!”
Before Carmen could respond, Willow dragged Cheri out into the street. “And mom thought you needed my help…”
“Well, we were done, right? If we don’t get back soon, your mother will blame you for not getting me out of there fast enough. For some reason green goop on my face and people playing with my feet are essential elements to a perfect wedding and I don’t want to ruin that for her.”
“Well, she’s afraid you won’t come back for presents I think.”
Confused, Willow shrugged. “I can’t see why. I mean, I think it’s ridiculous if you want me to be honest. We don’t need anything. But I don’t want to make your mom feel bad.”
Cheri wisely kept her concerns to herself. Willow would kill her but she wisely feared the wrath of mom more than the wrath of sister. “People like to give presents.”
Inside the fellowship hall, the “Fairbury One Day Spa” was in full bloom. Faces were stripped, sanded, and primed before receiving a good oiling- or at least that’s how Willow described it to Chad the next morning sending Cheri and Marianne into fits of hysteria. Her feet had never felt so soft and tender. As the pedicurist spent half an hour painting one foot perfectly, and the manicurist painted an identical “French style” on her fingernails, Willow laid back in the chair and tried to relax. Pool lounge chairs were scattered all around the room with every manicurist and pedicurist in a thirty-mile radius.
“Well, I feel like I should be puckered and wrinkled but my skin is smoother than I’ve ever seen it!” Willow commented hoping it was the right thing to say.
“Now, food!” Cheri announced as a knock sounded on the fellowship hall door.
Lily and Cheri raced to the door carrying huge bags of Chinese food. “Food has arrived- there’s a catch,” Lily insisted. “I ordered chopsticks. No one uses utensils. Chopsticks only.”
Willow looked at Marianne in horror. “I think we should have done our faces after dinner,” she remarked dryly.
Time ticked by and the party grew more and more silly as Lee and her crew gave everyone individual “makeovers.” From hair-dos from any century, make up from any century, and odd adjustments to clothing, the room was instantly transformed into a motley array of ‘painted ladies’ and yet every one looked smashing as the ‘persona’ the stylists created. Alexa walked around the room in her heels, forties dress, and glamour girl hair and make up taking pictures of everyone with one of Wes’ back-up cameras for souvenirs of the evening.
Finally, everyone gathered in a circle and piled gifts at Willow’s feet. In relief, she saw that almost all of them were smallish packages. While there were quite a few of them, she truly hoped people had spent little and they were mostly consumable.
The first gift was from Lee. Several bottles of hair products that smelled of jasmine assured her that her hair would be smooth, silky, and cure every dead end she could produce. Willow thought it an odd wedding present, but she was grateful it wouldn’t fill her house for the next twenty years. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, Willow was ashamed. These ladies, no matter how unnecessary it all was, were trying to be giving and show their affection for them. Willow just hoped Chad liked the scent of Jasmine and was grateful that he didn’t have much hair for it to cling to or Joe and the guys would tease him mercilessly.
A knit camisole and panty set with “Kiss me, I’m the Bride” emblazoned across the chest confused her. She glanced around the room with an endearing expression of abject perplexity on her face and said, “It’s really comfortable looking but why the words when they’ll just be covered by clothes?”
Several sets of bath salts, bubble bath, lotion, shower gel, and to Willow’s utter amusement, candles, followed the initial packages. Then Marianne handed her one smiling mischievously. “This is your joke gift.”
Tentatively, Willow unwrapped the paper and laid it aside in the rapidly growing pile. From the garment box she pulled two pillowcases. One showed a blushing stick figure bride being kissed by her groom. The other showed only half of the stick figure body as he leaned into the other pillowcase. Willow flushed a deep crimson and folded them quickly covering the box. “Very funny Marianne-” She paused. Suddenly calling her mother-in-law to be by her first name seemed cold and impersonal. She’d have to talk to Chad about that. Chad. Oh, wait until he saw those pillowcases. Ugh.
Another package was thrust into her hands before she could recover from her change in thought. Inside was a beautiful picnic basket. It was much nicer than anything she’d ever owned. She assured Alexa it would be well used and the comment sent titters around the room as soon as she opened it and pulled out his and her robes, a box of truffles, and a bottle of champagne.
“Oh!” Willow fumbled for a moment and then smiled confidently. “It’s perfect for going to the swimming hole. Thank you so much!”
The ladies exchanged glances around the room unsure how to handle her apparent cluelessness but Willow had finally discerned the point of this shower. Alexa caught her eyes and winked.
Presents flew in rapid succession. It seemed she unwrapped one sheer nightie only moments before another was thrust into her hands. Her face slowly turned from beet to puce until Grandma Tesdall passed her package and muttered something about indecency. Knowing the irascible old woman’s penchant for making people miserable, Willow was nervous. However, at the sight of a green and blue striped seersucker housecoat, she jumped from her “throne” and raced after the startled woman throwing her arms around her. “Thank you!”
Collective laughter filled the fellowship hall and it grew louder as she slipped the housecoat on over her skirt and blouse. “This is so much more like it. I won’t freeze my fanny trying to milk Ditto in this.”
Cheri’s gift was a beautifully handcrafted “Wedding Journal” in Willow’s colors. It was readily apparent that she’d spent hours searching for just the right papers and colors. “Oh Cheri! It’s beautiful! How did-”
“I just thought, ‘If Willow was bringing a gift to a personal shower, what would she do?’, and this is what I decided.”
“It’s perfect. Thank you! I know exactly how I’ll use it too!” Seeing the journal reminded her of the engagement album in her bag. “Hey, can you find my tote bag and get the album out of it? I meant to share tonight!”
As the women oohed and aaahed over the pictures, Willow opened a box with a t-shirt that said, ‘Taken’. Excitedly, she raced for the bathrooms and emerged almost immediately wearing the t-shirt. “There. No one can doubt it anymore.”
Lily’s gift was a set of scented padded hangers. The relief was nearly overwhelming. Several more joke gifts, a set of silk sheets, and two more bath sets later, the party ended. They loaded Marianne’s trunk with everything, thanked Lily, Alexa, Lee, and all of her ‘team’ for the wonderful evening and left. Willow was exhausted but tightly wound. She’d take a nice long walk along the stream before she turned into bed.
Once parked beside the barn, Willow told Marianne and Cheri to go inside the house. “I’m tired but I have nervous energy to work out. If you’re in bed before I get back, I’ll see you in the morning. Thank you for everything.”
Willow was half way across the pasture before she heard the back door slam and Chad’s voice calling her. Though she knew he couldn’t see it yet, she held up her cell phone and flipped it open so he could see the light to walk in the right direction. “Over here.”
“How’d it go?” he queried jogging up to her.
“You know exactly how it went. I have special torture planned for you. You knew what was going on and you didn’t warn me.”
Trying another tactic, he pointed to her shirt. “I like that.”
She grinned. She’d get even later, now was for fun. “I did too. It doesn’t mach my skirt but I had to put it on when I opened it.”
“You like it?” This he hadn’t expected.”
“You know,” she mused staring across the pasture toward the line of trees by the stream. “For someone as intelligent as you usually are sometimes you’re not too bright.”
“’splain’ Lucy.”
“What?”
“Never mind. Tell me what you mean.”
“Who’s Lucy?” Willow was not too tired to be irked that yet another thing Chad said made absolutely no sense to her.”
“It’s a TV show. Now tell me about you being glad you’re taken.”
“Well, it’s not just that- I mean- it’s more that I belong somewhere again and I like where I belong.”
“Aww lass…” Chad wrapped one arm around her waist and led her further from the house to her favorite spot along the stream. “Tell me about the cake.”
“They’re doing fondant.”
“And the dance floor?”
Willow answered every question as though bored. She couldn’t understand why everyone acted like this was a difficult process. “Why does everyone keep doing this? I thought you-”
“I’m trying to get it out of you so that I can field the answers honestly. Mom asks about the stage for Argosy Junction and I can assure her that it’s taken care of. If I know that the caterer is on schedule and that you have all the tables and chairs and insurance for the horse and carriage, then we’re set. I can stop everyone from giving you grief. It’s just me asking instead of twenty others.”
She sank to the edge of the bank and rested her head against the trunk of her favorite tree. “I was wondering about your mom.”
“What about her?”
“I can’t keep calling her Marianne. Is there something she’d want me to call her?” Willow had been thinking about it since the shower.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it seems so disrespectful and yet I can’t call her ‘Mrs. Tesdall’.”
“Of course you can’t, that’ll be your name.” He hadn’t thought of it yet but the sound of Willow Tesdall sounded wonderful to his ears.
“Come on,” she insisted, “What do I do?”
“We call her mom but I wouldn’t want you to feel disloyal to your mom.”
Willow thought for a few minutes. “I called Mother, well, mother. Mom works. What would your mom think of that?”
“Ask her. I guarantee you’ll be calling her mom from now on though so don’t if you’re not sure.”
With a contented sigh, she laid her head on his shoulder. “I have a mother again- a mom. What about your dad?”
“He’s just Dad.”
“Dad,” she echoed. “I have never had a father. Dad. I like that.”
Willow’s cell phone rang. Again. By now, she was ready to give away the thing and never see it again. She’d already called Chad and chewed him out for finding it in the pile of straw in the barn. Now she took a deep breath and forced herself to answer it with a pleasant tone.
“Yes?”
“This is Marla from Maitre ‘D. I’m calling to ask about your side dish options?”
“I thought I chose the potato cups, spring salad, and corn chowder?”
“Yes, but we’re having trouble with our supplier. Twice now they haven’t been able to provide us with the greens and tomatoes for the salad-”
“So come and get mine. Tell me how much you need and I’ll have them picked and ready for you. I’d offer to bring them but I don’t drive.”
“You’re kidding. You have tomatoes, lettuce, spinach-”
“Unless you need fresh corn, I’ve got most salad basics.”
“We have the corn. Excellent. I’ll be there at four p.m. on Friday if that’s ok.”
Willow closed the phone and wrote “pick vegetables” on her list. She’d call for amounts on Friday in case the supplier came through after all. Before she could return to hemstitching tablecloths, the phone rang again. Tempted to ignore it, Willow glanced at the name flashing. “Hello Marianne!”
“Are you ready to go crazy yet?”
“Crazy why?” She was thoroughly sick of the question. Why must she feel stressed and out of sorts. Everyone she met since the day of the engagement photos had assumed she was going crazy with last minute details.
This wasn’t the answer Marianne expected. “Well, you only have until Saturday morning…”
“Yes. It’s going to be a long week.”
“I’ll see you Wednesday afternoon. Cheri is cutting her Thursday morning class. Her professor said she could turn in her work early and make up the essay next week.”
“Nice professor,” Willow agreed, not knowing what was expected.
“Are you sure there isn’t anything you need me to do?”
“If I think of something, I’ll put you to work when you get here,” Willow assured her.
The moment Marianne disconnected the call she dialed her son. “Chad? I’m worried about things.”
Chad asked his mother to wait as he pointed a warning finger at Aiden Cox and shouted for the boy to buckle his helmet straps. “What is wrong mom?”
“Willow is too calm. I don’t think she understands-”
“She’s got it covered mom. Everything is happening on schedule, Wes is bringing the proofs from our engagement pictures tonight- man he’s fast. They’ll be there for you when you get here.”
“What about tables? Did she think about renting tables and chairs?”
“No, she bought them. They’re in the barn. She thought we might want to have them ready for family occasions and church picnics and things.”
“You’re kidding me. How-”
“She knows what she’s doing, mom. Trust her.”
Marianne’s questions were driving Chad crazy. He could only imagine what Willow thought. After a few more reassurances and several requests to keep her hands busy, Chad disconnected the call and sighed. This was going to be a very long week.
***
The box in Chad’s hands was wrapped in brown package paper and tied in an ivory sheer ribbon bow. Willow’s eyes widened. “What-”
“Wes left it at the station. He wrapped it so I couldn’t look without you. He intends to ask if it was fully wrapped.”
“Are they that good or that bad,” Willow wondered feeling a bit nervous.
“I’m guessing they’re better than good.”
Forty pages of eight by ten photos captured a side of Willow and Chad that neither of them had ever seen. Somehow, Wes caught the undercurrent of their relationship that only those closest to them knew existed and even the happy couple had often missed. Posed shots didn’t look posed and candid shots seemed to reach into their hearts and tie them together in new ways. Most of the pictures neither of them remembered Wes taking.
“When did he get this one?” Willow pointed to a black and white photo of Chad sweeping a strand of hair back from her face.
“I don’t know. I don’t remember doing that.”
They both laughed at a series of shots where Chad attempted to catch Willow jumping from the swing… and failed. The final picture of both of them laying on their backs, arms thrown over their foreheads and their free fingers intertwined was shot from much higher than they could remember.
“Did you see him climb anything?”
“He did have that ladder with him everywhere,” Willow reminded Chad.
“I didn’t remember him using it.”
Willow nodded agreeably as she turned the page. “I don’t either. Look at this one!”
This one Chad remembered but didn’t realize that Wes caught. They’d stepped down from several shots on the porch swing, the Chinese checkerboard rocking on the bench as they stood. Wes captured the moment and then must have turned in time to snap a picture of Chad handing Willow a white and lavender columbine. It looked as though he’d picked it and presented it as a simple gift when in reality, he’d broken it as he hurried down the step and paused to show her that the Rocky Mountain variety were still blooming. The picture was instantly Chad’s favorite.
“I love that one.”
“Isn’t it interesting how a picture can convey something that didn’t happen?” Just as she said it, Willow turned the page and the picture staring back at them looked like the perfect picture of a couple in love. “Like that. Wow. Look at that.”
“I like it. What’s wrong with it?”
Willow didn’t know how to explain without embarrassing herself. “Nothing’s wrong with it- it just looks more- I don’t know-” she hesitated again searching for the right word. “Intimate. The picture looks like he caught us in a very private moment but I remember that. We were laughing about him tripping and falling but saving his camera at the expense of his cheek, remember?”
“Right. Wes said, ‘Skin heals but my camera and lenses aren’t as forgiving.’ I see what you mean though but really, it was an intimate moment. We shared thoughts without words there, remember?”
She shook her head and continued flipping pages and commenting on pictures. As much as Willow wanted him to understand what she meant, it felt impossible to explain it adequately and ever since the fiasco over finances, Willow was loath to mention anything that could be misconstrued. She just wanted to get through the week and then deal with any fallout afterward.
The final picture was one of the few with much physical contact. Somehow, Wes captured their relationship while keeping their physical affection more private than many engagement pictures that Wes had shown Chad trying to glean ideas for what they wanted. This picture, however, showed them on the lowest branch of the oak tree by Kari’s grave. They straddled the branch, Chad behind Willow, his arms around her waist and his face next to hers. From Wes’ angle, the shot included an out of focus foreground with Kari’s headstone and the couple in perfect focus. Just as Wes snapped the picture, Chad had made a funny comment and kissed her cheek. The resulting picture was incredibly heart wrenching on many levels.
Willow stood, carried the book into the living room, and glanced around the room. Finally, she pulled a sampler she’d stitched at seven from the wall over the chaise and held the album in place studying the effect. “Will you hold this for me?”
Chad smiled as she stood back and eyed it critically. “What’s wrong?”
“We’d have to have an awfully big picture… What if we did the columbine one on one side and the last one of the swing series?”
“Lass,” Chad said lazily, “You pick ‘em, I’ll hang ‘em.”
“Oh, I can hang them. I just didn’t want pictures up there that you’d hate. I’ve always hated that sampler. I’m glad to get it out of here.”
“What’ll you do with it?”
Willow stared at it disdainfully. “I’m thinking fuel for stove works.”
“No!” Abashed, Chad regulated his voice to a more moderate tone and tried again. “I just think that someday you might want it or our children might want it. There’s a lot of work-”
“Ugly work”
“Ok, fine,” Chad conceded. “You think it’s ugly. I don’t but I can see why you don’t like it. With your eye for perfection and color I bet you can give me twenty problems with it before I could carry it upstairs but I still think it’s an amazing amount of work for a little girl and I think you should save it.”
“Where?”
“Attic. We’ll wrap it in an old sheet or something.” Before she could argue, Chad took the frame from Willow and carried it upstairs. “Hey, you scrubbed the hallway today. The soot is gone,” he called down to her.
“I can’t have people getting all black waiting for the bathroom!”
“Did my mom call again?”
As she climbed the stairs behind him, Willow gave him a play by play of the series of calls she’d received that day. “Oh yes. She called at eight, eleven, four, and just as you were pulling in the driveway. In between those calls, Cheri called three times, Libby twice, and I got at least half a dozen calls about cake, food, horse, and I can’t remember what all. It was ridiculous.”
“Bad news.”
Willow glared at him as he looked down from the attic stairs. “What?”
“It’ll happen again tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day… but once mom gets here, I think she’ll calm down.”
“Can she come now?”
Chad’s laughter did little to comfort her. “Nope. You’re mine tonight and tomorrow afternoon. After that I won’t get five minutes alone with you until after we kick everyone out on Saturday.”
A look of despair clouded her face. “Why did we think a wedding was such a good idea again?”
***
Tuesday afternoon, Chad and Willow moved all of Chad’s possessions from his apartment to the house. His mattress, they put on Kari’s bed and sent hers to be remanufactured somewhere in the city. His dresser they stashed in the attic for storage, and his coffee table he set in the craft room for his mother to take home. Chris wanted it. They rearranged the living room to make room for Chad’s couch instantly doubling the seating.
Aside from a pair of sweats, a few pairs of socks and underwear, his uniform and one change of clothing, Chad’s apartment boasted of one air mattress and a fridge with milk in it. All of his clothing was now safely stored in Kari’s dressers, and the rest of his meager possessions fit nicely in Kari’s closet. While Chad stored things were he could find them at the farm, Willow scrubbed his apartment from top to bottom. It’d need another light cleaning after the wedding but they had two weeks before the end of May to clean it.
Entering her living room, Willow stopped. “It’ll take time to get used to two couches. We could put your computer on the coffee table in the middle and each have a whole couch to stretch out on.”
Chad pulled his laptop from the bottom shelf of an end table and set it up. “Let’s try. I’m beat and I still have three hours before I have to get to work.”
The movie began and both of them stretched out onto individual couches. In minutes, Chad was sound asleep, snoring lightly on occasion. Willow watched fascinated as Alvin York worked to provide for his family, became a Christian, fought conscription, and then finally fought to stop the guns at Argonne.
When Chad’s phone vibrated to remind him to get ready for work, he found Willow sleeping on his couch, his feet in her lap. He realized that at some point during the movie she must have gotten uncomfortable in the same position and moved. Now he urged her upstairs and into bed.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“No you won’t,” she murmured exhausted. “I have to go to the bath. No wait, that’s not it.” Her groggy mumbles were even more humorous as she tried to locate the correct word as it dodged her attempts to grasp it. “Shower. That’s it. Personal shower. What other kind of shower is there anyway?” she rambled pulling pajama bottoms and top from her drawer. “It’s not like people give showers to strangers for no reason.”
When she started to unbutton her shirt, Chad took it as a sign to say goodnight and rushed from the room. “I’ll see you before you go maybe. Don’t fix dinner. I’ll take you to Marcello’s or something,” he called.
Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, Chad warned his reflection, “Boy is she going to be surprised when she learns exactly what a personal shower is.”
Alone in his apartment, Chad raged. He paced the floor, kicked at the couch, and when tears threatened, he threw his cell phone across the room. Immediately, regret flooded his conscience. There was no excuse for losing control.
Dejectedly, Chad sank to the couch, hung his head in his hands, and prayed as he hadn’t prayed in months. Each second of his internal clock seemed to be a deathblow to a dream and each blow made him angrier. She’d been so cool and collected- cheerful even. What had he missed?
The clock screamed ten-thirty as he glanced at the red digital numbers. Wake up dad or risk waking up Luke’s children? The chief? No, not the chief, he didn’t want to embarrass himself any further. With a sigh and a prayer for operational if a bit scuffed cell phones, Chad retrieved his, clipped the cover back on it securely, and dialed home.
“Mom? I’m fine. Willow’s fine. Can I talk to Dad?”
Christopher groaned as he rolled over to grab the phone from Marianne’s tired hands. “Son? What’s wrong?”
While Chad explained the evening’s discussion and the events that led to it, Christopher padded downstairs, heated milk in the microwave, and poured two scoops of hot chocolate mix into his favorite cup. Hot mug in hand, he stepped onto the patio and wrapped his robe around him a bit tighter. This could be a long night.
“So basically you told her that her money was a problem but that she couldn’t get rid of it.”
“Well, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Does she know that son?” Christopher understood Willow’s mind more clearly, since she’d spent a week in his home.
“I think so. She just said, ‘well will you still come visit and play games and spend time with me if we don’t get married? Things weren’t going to be that different after marriage anyway.’” Just repeating the words made him sick.
“I can see why she said that.”
Of all the things his father might have said at that moment, those words were the last he expected. “Say what?”
“You heard me. Chad, you’ve made it very clear to everyone how you’re just good friends and this marriage is convenient for both of you. If we all know that, how much more should she think-”
“Dad!” This was not his fault. Chad refused to accept responsibility for Willow’s overreaction to a reasonable problem. “I called for help in dealing with Willow’s unreasonable response to the money situation, not to hear how you think I’m an idiot.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. I misunderstood. Night then. I don’t think she was unreasonable so I guess I should go.”
Christopher clicked the ‘talk’ button on his portable phone handset and carried it back into the house. Marianne stood at the kitchen sink unnerved by a late night call. “What did he want?”
“Our son made a bit fuss over Willow’s money, she tried to come up with solutions- she even offered to give it to that financial adviser of hers, and when nothing would please Chad, she suggested marriage might just be too much of a hassle for them.”
“What!”
Christopher chuckled. “Yep. Told him they might as well just go on being friends like they are. He’s made such a point of telling everyone about it like that, that I’m sure she thought she was doing him a favor.”
In a hoarse whisper, Marianne asked, “Do you think she really cares so little about the marriage though?”
“I suspect that she’s home sobbing her eyes out and wondering what is wrong with her.”
“What makes you think that?”
He wrapped an arm around his wife’s waist and steered her toward the stairs. “Remember when she wanted to make your dress and you said you’d find something in the store?”
“Yes? What about it. She was so excited to help me look. I thought I’d hurt her feelings but she didn’t have time to do more. Thankfully she wasn’t hurt.”
“She was crushed.” Christopher’s voice took on a tone of tenderness Marianne rarely heard.
“She was?”
“Sweetheart, I heard her crying in her room an hour after you got home. I went in, talked to her, and got it out of her.”
Marianne was aghast. “Why didn’t she- why did she act so chipper?”
“I asked her about that. She said it was something she’d read in C.S. Lewis. I don’t remember which book she said it was but in it, he mentioned something about putting on the ‘mantle of Christlikeness’. She chose to respond how she wanted to feel to train herself to feel how she should.”
“Did you tell her that was dishonest?”
“I told her she was mature beyond her years in her desires but that the appropriate response isn’t always what it seems. It seems that I wasn’t clear enough.”
“And now Chad probably thinks she’s happy with the plan but you think she’s unhappy.”
“Yes.”
Marianne turned and waved him upstairs. “I’ll call her.”
“It’s late Marianne.”
“You said she’d be up,” the persistent woman insisted. “I’ll at least try.”
Somewhere in a pile of hay in the Finley barn, a cell phone rang but the mice and cats that heard it were too busy to pay attention.
***
Sandy grit irritated Chad’s eyes the next morning. He awoke, tired and frustrated at the previous night’s events. He spent the next twenty minutes in prayer as he showered, shaved, and dressed for the day.
At the farm, Willow milked Ditto, rotated pastures so the cow and sheep could enjoy new grass, and the chickens fairly flew the coup as she opened the doors. May first. She remembered May day baskets on bedside tables and stories of her mother delivering baskets to the elderly in her church every year.
Buds on the lilac bush thrilled her until she remembered that there was no need for them anymore. There’d be no wedding, no bouquets, no lilacs to perfume tables with their heady scent. Her stomach clenched. Surely, there was another option. Maybe- but no, she’d made the suggestion to ease Chad’s misgivings and he’d accepted it. It must be what was best.
A long list of calls filled her mind. The cake, the caterer, the dance floor, and the horse would all have to be cancelled. Unless… She thought about it for several moments and then smiled. It’d work. Why shouldn’t they go ahead with the party? The invitations were sent, the money spent- she’d just make a different dress and they’d celebrate that friends can be just friends without complicating the relationship. The thought alone nearly made her ill. Eventually she’d feel that way. Today it was still fresh and raw.
She heard Chad’s truck in the driveway and hurried into the house. By the time he entered, she had a pan heating and was beating eggs into a bowl. “I got a late start so I thought omelets would be easiest.”
“We have to talk.”
Unwilling to get into difficult territory, Willow agreed readily and launched into her ‘wedding party without a wedding’ plan. “It’ll be easier than calling everyone and then-”
“I don’t want to call off the wedding.” He’d said it. All the way to Willow’s house he’d practiced how to broach the subject and here he’d just blurted out the first thought that came to mind.”
“But I thought-”
“You thought wrong,” Chad insisted. “You aren’t the only one in this equation. Yes, the money is difficult for me to swallow but not marrying you is more difficult.”
“I don’t understand.”
He shouldn’t have been surprised. Of course, she wouldn’t understand. As Willow handed Chad his omelet, he pulled the other chair toward him with one foot and gently pushed her toward it. “I know you don’t. That’s my fault Willow. I focused on one reason for marriage so exclusively that I left you thinking that’s all it was- a convenience.”
Chad saw her swallow hard and mentally kicked himself around the barn and back. He was going to blow this. Anger welled again but this time the object wasn’t Willow. This time he saw that she wasn’t the one with little thought for him. In fact, a new thought occurred to Chad, she’d probably been a bit self-sacrificing.
“Willow, I was a bit perturbed last night.”
“A bit?” One eyebrow arched slightly.
“Ok, I was quite ticked off. I assumed that you didn’t care about us- our marriage. I went home, whined to my father… I’m not exactly proud of my behavior. What did you do?”
She stood, pushed the chair behind her, and returned to the stove. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Willow, lass, we have to talk about it. We can’t let this-”
She whirled to face him steely anger in her voice. “I can’t believe you decided that this was all about me. I’m sick of being the backward idiot who doesn’t know how to relate in your world. You didn’t like any of my financial solutions, what else am I supposed to think? How am I supposed to know that you’re not looking for an out? You sounded like you wanted one.”
“It wasn’t that so much, as your infernal cheerfulness. You seemed perfectly chipper at the idea of just going back to the way things were.”
“So you would have preferred I cried and begged you not to abandon me?”
“Well cried-” he began with a slightly panicked tone. He’d been through tears enough with her to want to avoid them at all costs.
“Exactly! I save my break down for when you’re gone so I don’t push you further away and I get blasted for it. Had I bawled, you would have hated it. Can you give me an option three, because my brain quit at two.”
Willow shoved the half-cooked omelet into the sink and stormed from the kitchen. Chad stared in shock at the empty back door for several seconds before he jumped to follow. She was right. He had treated her somewhat like the backward child who must be the cause of all things discordant.
He hurried out of the kitchen, down the steps, and around the back of the barn. Chad was sure she’d gone to her swing. After the last snowfall, she’d raced out there with it and retied it onto the sturdy branch. She seemed drawn to it anytime she was unsettled or needed to think.
Just as the tree came into view, he heard the distinct sound of breaking glass against metal. Seconds later, it repeated. What on earth? Chad retraced his steps and opened the barn door where Willow was systematically smashing dishes into a barrel. Again. But this time death wasn’t the cause. He could take credit for this one.
“Aww lass, I’m sorry.”
Another dish crashed into the barrel. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“Willow, I-”
“What part of ‘don’t want to talk’ is incomprehensible?” Two more dishes followed.
In a brilliant stroke of preemptive genius, Chad knew she wouldn’t find kissing to be an acceptable alternative to talking. “What do you want?”
“I want to rewind to yesterday and then I’d burn that card from Bill.”
“That wouldn’t change anything though, not in the long run. It’d just delay the inevitable.”
She glared at him with eyes loaded with unshed tears. “Well, if the delay waited until after the fifteenth, then the solution options reduce dramatically.”
“So you want to marry me,” he commented almost gleefully.
“I don’t believe this. You thought I agreed because I thought it was stupid and I wanted to make myself miserable?”
“Oooh, listen to the sarcasm!” His mockery didn’t make her smile as he’d hoped, but she did put her next plate back in the nearly empty box. “You’re almost out of those. I should have mom find some at a thrift store or garage sale.”
“I have one more box in the lean-to.”
Chad thought of something. “Can I have one?”
Willow’s face was a study in curiosity. “Um, sure.” She handed him a plate and stepped back.
Chad however, took the plate and rubbed his thumbs around the rim. Gentle ripples edged in gold around the edge of the plate showed tiny rosebuds scattered here and there. “I could break this. I feel like it. I’m frustrated with myself and it’d be refreshing.” He smiled at her weakly. “But, I’m not going to do it. You see, I did that last night already.” He hoped this’d work.
“You did what?”
“Last night. I got upset about something and instead of showing self-control; I just let myself break things. I damaged our relationship. Forgive me?”
“We’re ok?”
“We’re more than ok.”
He saw her relax, every muscle seemingly stretching comfortably again. “I was afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know really. Just afraid. That’s why I asked what’d happen if we didn’t get married. I’ve seen it in books- people end engagements and never speak to each other again. I didn’t want to be alone again.”
“Breaking off the engagement was never an option in my mind. Once I asked you to marry me, in my mind, I was committed. For life.”
Willow shook her head. “That doesn’t make sense though. What if I sent you away? You’d never marry ever?”
“Well, I don’t know. Probably but-”
“Then it’s not the same as marriage. You can’t trivialize marriage like that. Marriage is unique and special because it is a total irrevocable commitment. Even if you left me once I was married to you, I’d never marry again while you were alive. The same isn’t true for engagement. It’s not right to give more power to one or it takes away the beauty and strength of the other.”
“So,” Chad questioned stubbornly, “You think engagements are just a way to ‘go steady’ while planning a wedding? There’s nothing special about an engagement?”
“I think there is a lot special about engagements.” Willow removed the plate from his hand, pushed the box out of the way and started toward the house. “I just don’t think it’s right to give it as much strength as a marriage. I like the old idea of them being breakable but considered a ‘breach of promise’. It’s the kind of thing you do only under the most serious of circumstances. One person loses their faith, you find out the other has been married and didn’t disclose it, one is unfaithful… Something like that.”
“You have a point- where are you going?”
“Well,” she teased. “If you came over here to tell me that you’re not taking ‘go away’ for an answer, then I’m changing for Wes. He said he’d be here at nine, remember?”
“Hmm… I got sidetracked with saving my marriage before I even had it. I’d better go change.”
As his truck bounced over the ruts in the road, Willow watched from her window. “Lord, why don’t I trust? Why do I fall apart over these things instead of turning them over to You? It’s not like I can do anything about them in my own strength anyway. I don’t understand why I never learn.”
“Something is bothering you.”
Lost in thought, Chad nodded and gave her a non-committal shrug. “Sounds interesting.”
His blatant departure into another time and place amused her. Mother had done that quite regularly and until now, Willow had forgotten how enjoyable it was to see another side of someone when they didn’t realize they were showing it. She’d never noticed how a crease formed between his eyebrows when he was thinking.
“Did you say something?”
“I said,” she responded with studied patience, “that something is bothering you.”
“Not really it’s just-”
“That something is bothering you.”
Chad smiled at her tone. “Ok, ok. I guess you could say it that way. I just keep forgetting about your money.”
“Money?” Money wasn’t something Willow thought of very often. Frankly, she’d ignored the quarterly statements Bill sent faithfully. “What about it?”
“You have it. Lots of it. I forget that.”
“Good. So do I. Who cares?”
He was reminded, once again, just how clueless she was regarding money and its affect on her life. “Who cares? Willow, your lifestyle exists because of that money.”
“I don’t understand that.”
“I know you don’t but I do. I understand it and it’s hard for me.”
His admission confused Willow more than ever. “Why is it hard for you?”
This Chad didn’t know how to explain. How do you tell your fiancée that you resent her disproportionate contribution to the family coffers? He had very definite ideas of marriage. The idea of a life with separate accounts was repugnant to him. All that was left to him was to determine which was more revolting- her money in his account or his and hers accounts.
“I hate this. I don’t know how to explain it but I’ve never imagined a marriage where there were separate accounts but I can’t imagine this marriage with access to this kind of money.” Chad flicked the credit card Bill had sent across the table.
“This is about the card?”
“This is about what the card represents. It represents more money than I’ll make in my lifetime.”
Willow shook her head frustrated. “No no. If you make fifty thousand a year for forty years, that’s two million dollars. I have around that much now so that just doesn’t make sense.”
It seemed insane that she could grasp the simple math of their respective financial situations without understanding what any of it meant in the real scheme of things. “But while I’m making my much less than fifty thousand a year your money is growing.” He winced and slammed his fist on the table rattling plates and sending a few nervous glances their way. “Sorry.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I know you don’t. It’s something I forget about and then kick myself over.”
Willow watched the agony go through is features for several minutes before she finally tossed her hands in the air. “I’ve got it. It’s simple. Your dad earns the money; your mom keeps your house right?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll give Bill the accounts. You earn the money. I work the farm. We’re what you’re used to. Everything’s fine.”
He didn’t know how to make her understand. Bill wouldn’t just accept her accounts and that money was like life insurance- she needed it. With his job, there was risk. Yes, it was a smaller risk than most officers faced, but even Fairbury had experienced its own murder spree and more recently, Willow’s stalker. It could happen again and this time, an officer- yes, even him- could be hurt.
“You can’t do that Willow. I need to know you are provided for if something happens to me.”
“Well, I’m not going to think about that,” she insisted dismissively. “We’ll just let the accounts do their thing and forget about them. We don’t need money from them. Between what I grow and what you-” she paused searching for the right word, “protect, we’ll have plenty. The accounts can just grow and we don’t need to think about them.”
How simple for her to put them aside as though a book she didn’t care to read but didn’t want to dispose of either. “I can’t forget it that easily-”
“Why not, I do. I have several unopened statements at home right now. It’s simple. File and forget.”
Dessert arrived and Willow attacked it ravenously. “I’ve been so hungry for hours.”
“They sell food at the alley.”
“It smelled funny,” she complained chagrined.
“Funny how?”
Willow shrugged. “There was a lot of oil and it smelled rancid. I wasn’t interested but I drank a lot of water. It helped me not feel so hungry.”
They ate in silence. Each moment ticked by as though there was nothing pressing on them, nothing bothering Chad, nothing confusing Willow. She watched as he struggled with things that she was sure she’d never understand and wondered why life outside the farm seemed so much more complicated.
“Chad?”
“Hmm?”
Willow waited for him to raise his eyes showing her he was out of his reverie. “If you could choose the perfect scenario, what would it be?”
“You mean financially?”
“Yeah.”
He thought about it. There was no easy answer. He wanted it not to be an option for consideration. Had he known any other woman, he’d have bought life insurance and prayed for the best. “Realistically?”
“Of course.”
“I’d wish the money was never a consideration but that’s not possible so I guess-” he shoved his spare hand into his pocket as he took a bite of his cheesecake. Chewing took every ounce of his concentration until he had to swallow and answer. “I just wish Solari- no, that’s not true either. It could be an inheritance from your grandfather and I’d still feel the same way.”
“Well, technically it is an inheritance from my grandfather.”
Once more, silence hovered until both Chad and Willow ordered it away simultaneously. “Ok-”
“Well-”
Chad smiled. “Go ahead.”
“Tell me something,” Willow began nervously. “What would happen if we didn’t get married? Would you still come and see me? Would we still play Chinese checkers, go fishing, and sit on the porch swing in the summer?”
“Not get married!” Now all eyes were on them once more. “What are you talking about?” he added much more quietly.
“I just thought that this is such a big deal that maybe we need to forget about the wedding thing. This wasn’t an issue before.”
He’d thought, well assumed- no hoped that marriage was becoming more than a convenient living arrangement. Her apparent nonchalance nearly sickened him. Anger followed. Did she really think so little of their relationship? They were affectionate now!
The memory of a handful of kisses told him she must hold some kind of deeper affection but her attitude- and her face. Look at her face. Willow’s eyes were earnest, her face placid, her demeanor calm. What was she thinking?
“Are you serious?”
“I think maybe its best. You won’t let me give it away, you don’t want me to have it without you, and you don’t want it. What other option is there? We go back to our regular friendship. Not that much was changing anyway.”
He couldn’t believe his ears. He shoved several bills onto the check tray and stood. “Are you ready to go?”
“Sure.”
The drive home was painfully silent. Chad drove with scrupulous conscientiousness to all traffic and speed laws before he turned into her driveway. As he braked just to the right of the farmhouse, he jerked his head toward the windows. “There’s a storm coming. I see the craft room windows open. Night.”
Smiling broadly, Willow stepped from the vehicle. “Night Chad. See you tomorrow?”
“If you want.”
“Of course I want you ninny. Isn’t tomorrow your day off?”
“Yeah. Engagement pictures tomorrow. I’ll call Wes.” Chad choked on the words. How on earth had this happened?
“Ok. I’ll make breakfast around seven. Night.”
Chad spun in the driveway kicking up more dust than ever. All concern for driving safety flew out the window and dissipated in the flying dirt and small gravel rocks. Willow stood on the steps until his tires squealed on the highway.
With Chad safely gone, Willow’s forced cheerfulness and self-control evaporated. She sank to the bottom step, lifted her face toward the night sky and wailed, “How is it that man can destroy my happiness from the grave!”
Then, the tears flowed.
The anticipation surprised him. Around the curve, turn left into the driveway, just a few more seconds and he’d go over that slight hill into the driveway and see the light- Where was the light? Was Willow ok? She never got sick but the lights were always on when he topped that little hill.
The house was too chilly for Willow to be home but he hadn’t gotten a call from her. Concern rose in his throat. The danger was over. Where could she be?
A note tacked above the sink sent shockwaves of relief over him followed by disbelieving chuckles.
Chaddie,
I hereby confess that I have taken myself to Brunswick for bowling practice. I hope you get off work in time to come join me but otherwise I’ll start home around six o’clock. I have a flashlight attached to my bicycle so it’ll be ok.
Ryder said he’d take care of the animals.
Missed you today,
Willow
P.S. Do you know what happened to my phone?
“I don’t believe this,” he muttered. Chad had expected her to go back quickly but the next day? Her determination amused him, her stubbornness frustrated him, but her zest for life… there was nothing like it. He’d never have a dull life no matter how ordinary and mundane it might seem to outsiders.
He spent the next forty-five minutes changing clothes and racing to Brunswick. Willow bowling again was something he refused to miss. Her bike stood proudly in the bike rack unchained and unmolested. For now.
Inside, there was no hint of her anywhere. He wandered up and down the lanes and then back to the counter. “Has a young woman, twenty three, green eyes, probably in jeans and a really bad bowler?”
“Willow?”
“Yeah,” Chad felt stupid. Of course, she’d introduce herself.
“She’s probably in the bathroom. She’s been bowling non-stop since eleven-fifteen-” he paused. “There she is!”
Chad was already on his way to greet her waving a thankful and friendly hand at the man. Jake Martens watched amused as Chad called to Willow and then jogged to meet her at her lane. The way they hugged briefly, with no kiss or lingering touches, made Jake assume relation. He’d worked the alley for ten years. He knew girlfriends and fiancées when he saw them. Willow had a ring but it wasn’t this guy’s.
“So you found my note. Good. I was thinking about asking how to find a pay phone. Mother used them sometimes I think. I didn’t see any but I thought maybe…”
“How are you doing?” Chad glanced at the scores displayed and shook his head. “You’re staying over fifty it looks like-”
“I got a strike once but I didn’t get credit for it.”
“Why not!” The defensive posture Chad took was particularly endearing to her t the moment.
She glanced at him sheepishly. “Well, I sort of got it in that lane instead of this one.”
“What? How on earth- Only you…”
Chad’s arm draped across her shoulders and he pulled her to him for another hug kissing the top of her head. Jake noticed and his brow furrowed. That wasn’t very brotherly behavior but engaged couples just weren’t that comfortable with each other without being more physical. He’d never seen anything like it. Maybe he was her brother. Maybe she almost died or something. Yeah. That must be it. She was his little sister who almost died from leukemia or lupus- or Lou Gregory’s or whatever that thing was called. That was it. Jake felt better having sorted the not-so-sordid details of Willow and Chad’s past and future.
“Be right back. I’ll get me some shoes.”
“But I’m tired. I need food.” The sight of Willow nearly pouting almost sent him into a hysterical collapse.
“You’re tired and want to eat. How many games have you played?”
“I don’t know. I just kept playing them until you got here.”
Chad shoved his hands in his pockets. “It’s six o’clock Willow. What if I hadn’t come? Would you have stayed until midnight when they closed?”
“Of course not. I was leaving after seven o’clock. I wanted to be home before midnight. I have to be up early!”
He shook his head. “You are seriously insane. Certifiably crackers as my grandma would say.” Waving at the lane, he urged, “Throw the ball. If you want to eat, you have to finish the game.”
“I swore I’d get a strike today though,” she hesitated.
“Well, you did. You didn’t get credit,” every ounce of strength held his chuckle at bay, “But you did it and that’s what counts.”
“Right. Can you pay for me? My card’s in my tote bag- actually, there’s a card in there with your name on it too. Bill sent it and there’s a letter. Might as well use your card.”
Confused, Chad opened her tote bag, feeling quite uncomfortable rifling through her personal things, found the envelope, and withdrew it quickly. Anything to get out of the equivalent of her purse. His mother had been adamant about no one ever opening her purse. Period.
The letter was brief and showed him yet again why Kari had trusted Bill Franklin with the management of her finances.
Willow,
I realized that with all of the wedding preparations, the expenses, and possible travel for a honeymoon, that Chad might need access to your accounts. Therefore, I’ve added him to your credit account and have ordered a card, which I’ve enclosed. If you’d rather not do this, return it to me and I’ll remove his name immediately.
You will need to take care of name changes, if you do that, as soon as possible. It’s a hassle so having Chad on the account before the wedding will really make it smoother for one of you to have access with I.D.
Hoping your plans are going well. I’ll be there, on time, and if there is anything I can or should do, please let Mari or I know.
Always,
Bill
The VISA card felt heavy in Chad’s hand. Money. It wasn’t something he’d considered but she had money. Lots of it. Much more than he’d ever earn. She didn’t live like it, act like it, or even realize it and that had made it a non-issue. Until now.
“I’m ready! Look, I got a nine! I just missed that center one somehow both times. How do you get all but the center pin?”
Chad smiled weakly at her. “Only you Willow. Only you. Let’s get out of here.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know for sure. Let’s just go.”
Jake watched them as Willow returned the shoes, the laces tied into perfect bows, and then pulled out her wallet to pay for her games. “How much do I owe you?”
“Sixty-five dollars.”
“What!” Chad stared at Jake as if he’d gone insane.”
Jake nodded. “Twenty-one games at three bucks a game is sixty-three dollars. Two dollars for shoe rental. Sixty-five.”
“How did you play twenty-one games?” Chad’s indignant voice could be heard across the alley.
“Easy!” Her voice, on the other hand, was nearly full of gloating. “Two balls. Half-way through I figured out that if I had two of the same ball, I didn’t have to wait for it to come back. Much faster.”
Chad stared at Jake as he counted Willow’s money. “I have the next thirty to sixty years to figure this woman out and you know what?”
Jake shook his head.
“I don’t think it’s going to be long enough. Either that, or she’ll be the death of me.”
“She your fiancée?” Jake’s surprise was evident.
“Yep. Best thing that ever happened to me.” Momentarily forgetting the financial sword hanging over the fine hairs over his head, Chad grinned at her.
“I had you pegged for brother and sister.”
“That too!” Willow quipped innocently. She waved her fingers at the men and backed toward the restrooms again. “I need to wash the hands. They get so dirty!”
“She doesn’t really mean-” Jake began as though compelled to ask.
“No! Oh no. We’ve just been such good friends for so long. And well, we’re Christians too so there’s the whole brothers and sisters in Christ thing. She’s been a little sheltered so sometimes she says things that only make sense in her world.”
He hated himself as he said it. He didn’t need to make excuses for her. What was wrong with him anyway?
“I figured it was something like that. None of my business anyway. Sometimes I think before I speak but not usually.” He hesitated. “She is different though, isn’t she? It wasn’t just my imagination.”
“Willow is different. Very different.”
“You’re a lucky guy.”
Willow pushed through the bathroom door at that moment. One glance at her reminded him of the girl who’d entered the station nearly a year before and he nodded. “I am one immensely blessed man.”
Chad waved at Jake, took Willow’s hand, and led her through the building to the side door closest to her bicycle. As they strolled outside, Jake saw Chad tug Willow’s braid teasing her about something, and then heft an old-fashioned bicycle into the back of a pick-up. She waited, slightly impatiently, it seemed to Jake’s eyes, for him to finish, settle the bike comfortably, before he opened her door.
Jake observed Willow smiling at Chad as he helped her into the truck. Just as he thought he might see a glimmer of something else, the floodlight shining on the scene burned out leaving Jake literally in the dark on the status of what kind of relationship they truly shared. Frustrated, Jake returned to disinfecting rental shoes. League bowling began in an hour.
He sighed. League bowlers were more predictable than Willow. He’d seen them a million times. He knew their stories inside and out. This couple was different. Jake loved people. He loved to watch them, see what made them connect, and even what tore them apart. What this couple had was something he’d never seen and he wanted more.
Jake’s mind replayed that last smile and he shook his head. “Wow.”
Carol and David turned off the highway and into Willow’s driveway. On their right, they saw the simple headstone beneath the sprawling oak and the familiar tightness in their throats returned. This wouldn’t be an easy lunch.
Chad met them at the truck welcoming them to the farm. “Willow had a bad night. She’s upstairs showering.”
“Bad night?” Carol and David looked at each other concerned. It hadn’t occurred to them that Willow might still have problems.
With an uncomfortable nod, Chad led them to the greenhouse as he talked. “She called around two just as I was getting off work. She’s never called me over a nightmare before so I knew it was pretty bad. I hope she’s up to this. She said she was but if she seems awkward-”
“We can go-” David offered almost too eagerly.
“If you don’t mind, I’d rather you stay. I think it’d be worse if you didn’t.” Chad found the necessary salad ingredients Willow had requested explaining her enterprise as he worked. “She sells the excess to a local woman who runs our market.”
“Did I see a planted garden already? Isn’t it early?”
“She did that last week. They have a whole system for extending the growing time. I don’t really understand it but she says they’ve only lost things to frost once so it must work,” Chad explained.
In the kitchen, Willow pulverized beef into thin strips for ‘pizza’. Hands covered with raw meat, she turned, shrugged, and said, “Consider yourself hugged. You really don’t want me to.” She wiggled her fingers and then went back to flipping meat and pounding it.
“Willow had pizza once and liked it but thought there wasn’t enough protein so this is her version. It’s delicious.”
Chad started to wash the vegetables but Willow waved him away from the sink. “Why don’t you show them around the house? I’ll have this ready in a few minutes.”
A deep sigh escaped before Chad could prevent it. Giving the Finleys an apologetic glance, he pointed out the basics of the kitchen. “Obviously the stove- wood fueled. There’s a mini-ice box under the counter over there. That door next to it is to the pantry. I’d show you but Willow would probably whack me with the tenderizer so I can show off her preserving skills after lunch.”
Willow smiled to herself. It was ok. She was ok. She’d felt foolish calling Chad but the panic that overtook her in her dream made it nearly impossible to breathe. She’d sobbed on him for an hour and finally fell into a fitful sleep with him resting on the floor beside her. How did he get up and keep going with so little rest?
The grand tour continued into the library. It sounded like Willow’s grandfather enjoyed the library but the comments from Mrs. Finley kept Willow’s mind spinning. “I can’t believe she-” was a recurring statement at nearly everything Chad shared. Once they were up the stairs, Willow popped the pizzas in the oven and scrubbed her hands.
Chad’s voice preceded the group as he led them back down the stairs and into the kitchen. “I was amazed the first time I saw her making soap to use up excess milk but now it’s just something I see now and then. They use a lot of soap around here.”
“We get very dirty around here!” Willow retorted flinging water at him.
Carol and David exchanged delighted smiles as Chad wrapped his arms around her waist tickling her. Willow was happy. As hurt and confused as they were over the past year’s events, they were thrilled to see she wasn’t as alone as it seemed. The Willow in this kitchen was a very different person than the young woman who had looked lost and out of place in her own home nearly a year before.
“Isn’t she amazing?”
“It won’t work Chad, you’re dead. I have every intention of shooting you tomorrow and don’t you forget it.”
Feeling very much outside of an inside joke, Carol looked around the spacious kitchen and tried to ask intelligent questions. “Why did Kari decide against electricity in the house again?”
“It was during the rewiring actually. I always thought it was kind of ironic that she gave it up as a result of upgrading it. She liked being forced to relax in the evenings, not having noise distract her, but she didn’t want to be without power if she needed it so she just turned it off once it was all fixed.”
“Doesn’t it get hot?” David’s interest was focused solely on comfort.
“Sometimes but we just go down and jump in the pool if we get too warm. We had spray bottle fights some nights too.”
“How about cooking in here though. It’d heat up the whole house with that stove.”
“Mrs. Finley, may I show you the barn?” Chad winked at Willow as he escorted her grandparents from the house to the ’summer kitchen’ at one end of the barn.
***
“Tell us about your wedding, Willow.” Carol couldn’t help asking.
Eagerly, Willow launched into her plans, brought her grandmother upstairs to see the preparations, and left Chad and David downstairs looking indulgently amused as she climbed the stairs saying, “We made this lemon marmalade…”
“She seems less…” David searched for the right word.
“Lost. She looked so lost the day I met her and it was worse the day you were all here.”
“Yeah.” It wasn’t very eloquent but the word spoke volumes.
Though unsure how much to share, Chad enjoyed talking to someone who had seen Willow in those early days. “I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to see her so excited. I thought I’d never convince her to have any kind of wedding.”
“I would have thought that kind of creativity and such would be right up her alley.”
“You catch on quickly.” Chad explained that he’d used that very argument to start the creative juices in the first place. “Once she got started, there was no stopping her, but I guarantee you, this is like no wedding you’ll ever attend.”
The women’s voices occasionally drifted down from upstairs. Eventually, Chad offered to show David around the farm. “It sounds like they’ll be up there for a long time.”
First, he led David to the pastures to show him the sheep and cow. He introduced Ditto, shooed barn cats out of the way, and finally led him across the field to the familiar oak. “We finally got a headstone out here. I thought maybe-”
One look at it and David’s eyes filled with unwanted tears. “She didn’t do this herself?”
“She would have but she always says she can’t work well with wood. My cousin helped me.”
“We’re very grateful that you kept coming. What made you do it?”
He’d never been able to answer that question until now. “I don’t think I could have answered that yesterday but standing here-” Chad swallowed hard. “I think it was the day I came out and she was hand digging this grave.”
“Oh God no!” His words were a prayer rather than an oath.
“It was truly the most heart wrenching thing I’ve ever seen. Now that I think of it, every time I resisted returning, I remembered that. I wasn’t conscious of it but how do you forget something like that?”
“Kari was always too independent for her own good. We foolishly encouraged it. She got her own apartment five miles from home just because she wanted to prove she could do it.”
“Kari was a wonderful woman,” Chad agreed.
“I’m not so sure that was so wonderful. It’s what resulted in so much pain for so many people.”
“She had a fault. I agree. I understand that. But you’ve seen the daughter she raised. Willow is who she is because of Kari’s training and influence. She rose above her mistakes. Maybe not how you would have hoped but-”
David’s voice grew hoarse until it was nearly a whisper. “We searched for so long. At first, we worried. Did she go hiking somewhere by herself and fall? Would someone find bones and never know it was her? Had she been kidnapped? Was she too stubborn to tell who we were for a ransom? Our relationship was good. We were sure she hadn’t run away. Why would she run away? The police asked and we were so cocky. ‘Our daughter doesn’t need to run from her own home. It’s not like we were keeping her prisoner in ours!’ Oh we were so sure.” Only through sheer willpower was David able to keep talking without breaking down completely.
“Our marriage suffered,” he confessed. “I had to call off the detective agencies. I couldn’t afford anymore. I’d borrowed everything I thought I might be able to pay back. Carol almost didn’t forgive me for that.” David raised his pain-filled eyes to meet Chad’s. “Why did none of the detectives ever find anything on her? She had bills. I know it wasn’t as easy to find people then as it is now but surely when someone looked up basic things in the state it should have come up!”
“Everything is in the financial company’s name. Accounts are in their names etc but from what I can see, their names are just the signatories on some kind of corporation type set up so you’d have to be looking for that kind of set up to find it, and why would anyone look for something like that?”
“It’s like she wanted to make sure we couldn’t find her no matter what.”
Chad turned to walk back to the house. “She did exactly that. She wanted to make sure you didn’t find her. She was trying to protect you. She misunderstood a warning from Steven Solari.”
Near the back door, Chad stopped David. “By the way, I suggested that she consider asking you to ‘give her away’. I don’t know if we’re even having that portion of a wedding ceremony- you won’t believe the things she is and isn’t including, but I want you to be prepared. If she asks, please find a way to say yes. If she asks it is because she has decided you are worth investing in and you’ll crush her if you refuse.”
“I couldn’t refuse. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t refuse anything of Kari’s child. Why do you think I’m here? Do you think I wanted to put myself through this pain? But she’s Kari’s girl. She’s my little girl’s daughter. I had to come and I couldn’t deny her anything no matter how much my sense of self-preservation argues.”
Chad studied him for a moment and then, crossing his arms, he nodded. “I hope sir, for your sake as well as hers, that you learn to love her for herself. You’ll never be sorry.”
“You’re not.”
A grin split Chad’s face. “Sorry? You’re right. I’m not sorry in the least. Aside from Jesus, she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
***
Chad and Willow walked along the stream talking at dusk. “He said yes. I didn’t think he would.”
“I thought he would. I mentioned you might ask. I wanted him not to be surprised by it. People sometimes agree to things they don’t want to do and visa versa when something comes at them from out of the blue so I warned him.”
“Oh.” She hadn’t considered that.
“Want to know what he said about it?” Her nod encouraged him. “He said almost verbatim, ‘There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Kari’s girl.’”
“He loved Mother.”
“Loves, Willow. He still loves her. She isn’t extinct, she’s just moved on.”
Uncomfortable with the topic, Willow turned it in a new direction. “So when do I get my wedding gift?”
“He’s all paid for but we can’t pick him up until Monday after the wedding. How about me?”
“It’s a surprise. I won’t tell you where you’ll find it or what it is but you’ll know it when you,” she hesitated as though struggling for the right word and then sighed. “Well, when you see it I guess.”
He untangled their fingers and draped his arm around her shoulder using it as a way to steer her one hundred eighty degrees. “Well now that is intriguing. Tell me, would anyone know it when they saw it or only me.”
She thought for a moment and shrugged. “I doubt most people would notice it but I can think of a couple who might. It’s more what you won’t see than what you will- I think.”
“So will I drive you crazy if I ask lots of questions every day or two?”
“Definitely.”
His arm pulled her closer and he kissed the top of her head. “Good. I’ll be sure to bug you often.”
“Chad!”
“How about I go milk the goats, you go do whatever you have to, and we go bowling in Brunswick. Chuck says you’re a blast to bowl with.”
***
“Keep your wrist straight and let go just-” Chad quit trying. It wasn’t worth the air forced through his lungs. She flung the ball recklessly. There was amazing force behind it- even sending it across lanes at one point.
Chad, on the other hand, after the first two or three frames, got into a reasonable rhythm and bowled a decent game. Willow pretended to be affronted but even Chad could see her pride in his success. For all her competitiveness, Willow loved to see others succeed at what they tried to accomplish.
On the second game, Chad tried a new approach. He followed behind her until she was ready to let go of the ball and then held her wrist steady as she let go. It fell into the gutter with an obnoxious thud. Patiently, he tried again. And again. It felt as though he played a double game, first on his turn and then helping her keep a reasonable form.
Finally, Willow pushed him out of the way. “I want to copy you now and see if I’ve learned.”
It was a mistake. A huge, glaring, sidesplitting mistake. She took two steps forward, swung the ball back, slid her left foot behind her right, spun in place, and landed on her backside. Chad’s jaw connected with the floor. A look of stunned surprise froze in Willow’s eyes and on her features.
“Are you ok?”
“Um-” she began thoroughly embarrassed. “Are you referring to my body or my pride?”
“Either.” It didn’t help when he began chuckling.
“Both are bruised but I think I’ll survive.”
“There is good news, Willow.”
“There is?”
His chuckles grew to chortles and finally exploded in hilarity. “Of course, the ball didn’t touch our lane. You get to go again and no penalty.”
“Oh joy.” She scrambled back to her feet, strode to the ball racks, and searched for a different ball. Carrying one in each hand, and one in the crook of one arm, she hurried back to the lane and glared at him. “I think it’s time to try different weights.”
Her instincts were correct. By the end of the night with a fourteen-pound ball, she was able to hit the pins more often than she missed them. She still hadn’t managed a strike or a spare but Willow was now more determined than ever.
“I’m coming back. Not only am I coming back, but next time, I’m not leaving until I get a strike and I don’t care what it costs or how many days it takes.”
Go on over to Fairbury Tales and see what’s happening!
The door creaked as Willow opened it. She glanced around the room expectantly. Was he awake? A snore assured her that he wasn’t. She carried bags of groceries into the kitchen and started cutting fruit, making sandwiches, and mixing fruit juice. It was all very interesting for her.
Once finished, she looked at her pile of food and grinned. She piled the food in a box and then went hunting for Chad’s Frisbee. A baseball bat and softball was added to her pile. She saw paintball guns and wondered what he was doing with guns lying around after his absolute disgust with her and her loaded gun. She picked it up and examined it trying to find what kind of bullets it shot but only saw round plastic looking balls. She’d ask Chad after she woke him.
With everything ready, Willow took a deep breath and peeked into Chad’s room. Oh she hoped he wouldn’t be irritated but once the idea germinated, she had a hard time not tilling, watering, and practically forcing it to grow. First, however, she had to wake him.
“Chad?” She shook his shoulders gently.
He bolted from the bed ready to do battle. “What is it? Where- huh?”
“What’s wrong?”
“You tell me! What are you doing here?” He rubbed the sleep from his eyes blinking against the light.
“I- well, I woke up this morning. Birds were singing, it’s supposed to get up to sixty-five today, and the sun was shining. I thought-”
Chad crawled back under the covers. His room was a little too cool for shorts. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t you have today off?”
“Yeah…”
“Picnic?”
“Get out of here,” Chad growled laughing. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
He emerged from his room to find her examining his paintball gun. “Isn’t it cool?”
“Cool? It’s a gun with colored balls in it. What’s it for?”
“Paintball.” At the look of confusion on her face, Chad grabbed the other gun and took her to the trashcan. “Watch.”
Chad fired the gun into the side of the trashcan liner and paint splattered around the inside of he can, a few drops splattering around the floor beside them. “You shoot it. You go out into the woods or fields and have wars shooting these at each other.”
“And you flipped out that I had a loaded gun in my house while you have two just lying on the floor?”
“Well, they’re not real like yours.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You woke me up, at two in the morning, to examine my gun when the children were at my house because you didn’t trust me to keep my word and put the bullets away when they were there but you have loaded ones in your apartment for Laird to find?” Her voice rose several notches as she spoke.
“I could shoot you with this and it wouldn’t hurt you at all.” He paused, “Well, at this close range you’d get a bruise.”
“You were serious?” Willow’s voice was aghast. The concept of deliberately shooting at someone for the fun of it was incomprehensible.
“Yeah. Hey, we’ll bring them and I’ll show you.”
She watched, eyes bugged, as he piled jars of paint balls, vests, and four guns on the couch. All the while, he talked about strategy and made plans for a large group game the following weekend. “We’ll get Cheri and Chuck… oh and I think Joe is off. Maybe he and Alexa will come. Or! We could do a singles fight rather than a movie this time. You have enough land that it’d be great!”
“Ok. Can we go now? Sandwiches are getting soggy and it’s almost noon. I’m hungry.”
Chad disappeared into the bathroom to brush teeth and hair. Willow rolled her eyes leaning against the door and taunted him. “You don’t have enough hair to brush. Honestly, there isn’t a piece of hair on your head longer than an inch. Why on earth do you need to brush your teeth? You’re going to eat in no time!”
***
They found a small clearing at the back of the Finley property that she hadn’t explored in ages. The picnic blanket spread out on a slight slope made it difficult for setting down cups but they reclined comfortably. In no time, the food was gone.
“No ants.”
“We always had early picnics because the ants, flies, and bees were usually scarce.”
His expression grew impish. “Frisbee or paintball?”
“Guns first.”
For half an hour, they practiced loading, shooting, and reloading mid run. “Ok, I’m ready. Now what?”
Chad glanced at her wrist. Willow didn’t wear a watch. “Count to five hundred and then come out blazing. Hide. The point is to shoot me before I shoot you. It’s more fun with more people but this’ll give you practice.”
Willow counted as she watched him dash for the trees. She scouted the area for some place protected from all sides but found nothing. Finally, she climbed a tree with a perfect low-lying fork and settled in until Chad came back. She’d get him.
Several minutes later, she heard crashing coming from the opposite side she’d expected. If she’d gone with the bushes, she’d be dead. The tree was a good choice. Willow waited patiently. Chad crashed through the brush, not even attempting for quiet. This made no sense. How could you hunt something if you were advertising your presence?
He paused for a moment just under the tree. She waited. If she shifted to aim for him, he’d be sure to hear her. Three steps later, she fired. “Hey!”
Willow slung the gun over her neck and then hung from the branches ready to drop. Chad saw her and wrapped his arms around her lower legs. “Let go.”
“I’ve got it.”
“Just do it. You can’t hit something and be off. A broken leg won’t look right with that dress of yours.”
She shook her head impatiently. “It’d be under the dress anyway. No one would notice.”
“You would think of that. What were you doing up there? How’d you get up there so fast?” Chad let her down gently pulling a leaf from her hair. “You killed a baby leaf.”
“The tree will live,” she retorted. “I’ve been up there for ten minutes at least. It was the only way you couldn’t creep up behind me.”
“You can’t do that!” Her confused expression was lost on Chad.
“Why not?”
“What if I had done that? We’d both be hanging in trees like sloths until the cows come home.”
“My cow is home.”
Chad brushed a stray strand of hair from her eyes. “Ok, stay on the ground. Five hundred. Ready? Go!”
He turned, crashing through the brush, and disappeared. Willow glanced around her. There had to be a way to keep silent or at least bring him to her. She grabbed a few pinecones and crawled under some brambles laying her vest under her for protection. Silence surrounded her comfortably.
A twig snapped. Willow’s ears picked out the sound from the southwest and smiled. With a swift movement, she tossed the first pinecone against a nearby tree. No movement followed for several seconds and then the sound of fabric against brush came. She tossed another one farther away sending Chad crashing past.
“What the-” Chad whirled but saw nothing. “Where are you?”
She scrambled along the ground, the front of her shirt grinding into the mud. “Here. Gotcha.”
He watched amused as she dusted herself off and tried to remove the broken brambles from her hair. “You just crawled in there and laid in wait for me, didn’t you?” Chad picked the rest of the twigs from the layers of her braid as he talked. It seemed like a waste of time. She’d be tangled in something else in minutes.
“Yep.”
“Ok, let me try phrasing this another way. You’re supposed to keep moving. Run as far away as you can and then sneak back to find me, moving most of the time, hiding only if you think you ear me, and then come out blazing. If we both did what you’re doing, we’d never get a shot in and we’d starve to death.”
“And if we did what you’re describing in war or while hunting we’d get killed or starve.”
“But this is a game,” Chad protested shaking his head. “You’re supposed to do it ‘wrong’ in order to play the game right.”
“Ok. Fine. I’ll do it. I think you’re just irritated that I got you twice in a row.” With that, she sprinted through the trees counting out loud, “One, two, three…”
Chad watched her until her green vest, dirty jeans, and brown hair melded into the forest around her. “Wow.”
Two hours later, they both collapsed on the picnic blanket exhausted. She’d chased him all over the woods until he finally gave up and surrendered. Any protests she’d made about her lousy shooting skills he dismissed in mock irritation. She might not have a straight aim, but she had a wicked sixth sense and perfect hearing.
Lying on the blanket, Chad was covered in paint splatters, Willow’s shoe had a few from the only shot he’d managed to fire at her. She’d seen him move in her peripheral vision and dove for cover leaving her shoe exposed. Chad was impressed.
Willow had no idea how long they laid there. Chad dozed and after a while, Willow raised herself on one elbow and watched him as he slept. His chest rose and fell rhythmically just as Othello’s used to on similar picnics. One arm, thrown over his eyes, twitched as occasional breezes sent one of her loose hair up and down his arm.
Compassionately, Willow pulled the hair away, tossing it in the wind. She hated nothing more than her hair tickling her face and she was used to it. It must be extra annoying to a man with no experience with long hairs clinging at odd times and in odd places.
As she watched him, another thought crossed her mind. A slight snore encouraged her even more. Before she allowed herself to think about it and chicken out, Willow leaned over him and kissed him lightly. She waited for him to wake and mock her but Chad hardly stirred. It seemed nothing like the kiss in North and South. Her original opinion made more sense. Smashed lips.
Willow’s mind whirled. It didn’t look right in her mind’s eye. Margaret had done something different. Poking him gently, she waited but Chad didn’t stir. Once more, Willow bent over him trying to imitate Margaret’s kiss. She tried a feathery pass but it also was wrong. The hand over Chad’s eye brushed over his mouth impatiently.
She sat back disgusted. He’d lied. He’d assured her there was something different in the kiss between men and women but obviously, there wasn’t. It was just another set of smashed lips. Maybe it was just different for men. Marianne had made it obvious that men found physical closeness more difficult for unmarried men so maybe that was the difference.
Margaret’s face haunted her. There was something different. It was obvious from the scene that replayed itself repeatedly in her mind as Willow tried to see what she might be doing wrong. She had to try again but he’d moved last time. What if he caught her? How humiliating! Then again, she mused, he was her fiancée. Why should it be humiliating for a woman to kiss her future husband?
As soon as she thought it, she answered herself disgustedly. It was humiliating that she had to sneak the kiss in the first place. What was stopping him anyway? Was he just not attracted to her that way? Maybe their strange marriage would work and Marianne was wrong.
She traced his jaw line with the lightest touch she could manage. Chad hardly moved. His breath shifted slightly and then he resumed his normal steady breathing. She hovered over him once more. Each second that ticked by nearly drove her crazy with embarrassment. He could wake up any minute and the sight of her face centimeters from his could send them both scattering. Margaret’s lips had seemed to pull at Thornton’s. Maybe-
She tried again. This was definitely different but still left much to be desired. So, the lips didn’t smash. So, they stuck together like taffy on the bottom of your shoe. Whoop-de-doo. Chad’s voice startled her.
“Couldn’t wait eh?”
“I-”
His eyes opened lazily. “I wondered when you’d figure it out.”
“Have you been awake-” she started and then realized she truly didn’t want to know. “Don’t answer that.”
“Dare you to try it again.”
“What’s the point? From all I can tell, you have your choice. Sticky lips or smashed ones. I think the movie just made the ordinary look good.”
“You’re back to North and South again?” Chad raised himself on one elbow.
Disappointment was etched in her features making her look like a child who discovered that grab bags are just pretty ways of selling unwanted junk. “It looked different there but-”
“Did it occur to you,” he began his eyes capturing hers as he spoke, “That both of them were kissing? He kissed her back. That’s like night and day.”
“Oh.” The disappointment hadn’t left her voice.
Willow’s breath caught as she saw a determined look enter his eyes. “I-”
“Hush. You started it.”
“But-”
Suddenly, talking didn’t seem very important. Suddenly nothing else seemed very important. For several long seconds Willow’s mind reeled in unfamiliar territory until Chad settled back on both arms grinning. Willow, on the other hand, sat frozen in place.
“Wow,” she whispered.
“Willow is getting married,” Carol Finley commented surprised. “What was the name of that officer again?”
“Teasdale?”
“That’s him. Tesdall. Chad Tesdall. May fifteenth at her farm. She sent a personal note in the invitation inviting us to dinner at her house in two weeks.”
“Will the cop be there?” David Finley wasn’t ready to think about this. Carol had just stopped talking about a visit in the past couple of weeks. This’d start it all up again.
“It sounds like it. I’ll call and R.S.V.P and accept at the same time.”
“Are you sure we should go?”
“She has no family, David. I can’t believe how heartless you can be about her.”
“Well, it’s not like it’s our fault-”
“It’s not hers either!” Disgusted, Carol stormed out of the room and into the exercise room. She’d taken to pounding the treadmill anytime stress crept up on her to avoid blood pressure climbs.
David sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and stood. She’d walk herself into nothingness if he didn’t stop her. Just inside the doorway, he paused. “I’m sorry. It’s hard for me.”
“Kari hurt you- us really. Willow didn’t. We can’t let her suffer for Kari’s decisions.”
“Call. I’ll come.”
“She invited Kyle, Sheryl and the kids too.”
“Call them first then, I guess.” David smiled weakly and disappeared.
***
The greenhouse was a success. Radishes, lettuce, carrots, and spinach grew lushly. Willow worked happily picking salad greens and staring longingly at the healthy tomato plants. Canned tomatoes just didn’t taste as wonderful on a salad as fresh ones but her ‘hot house’ tomatoes wouldn’t be ready until the wedding. Jill would love the excess. She had enough spare produce to stock the store on Saturday mornings for a few weeks until major planting time.
She heard Chad’s truck before she saw it but she continued her work in the greenhouse waving to him as he climbed from the vehicle. From Chad’s viewpoint, Willow had never looked better. The tired expression was gone from her face, her eyes no longer looked lost and empty without her mother, and now that she was back to work, a healthy glow replaced them all.
“Your radishes are overflowing.”
“Yes. I was going to ask you to take some to Jill before you went home tonight.”
“Will they keep in the fridge?”
She shrugged as she cut another bunch of spinach. “Sure.”
“I was planning on staying late with a movie so I’ll take them over in the morning.”
“You brought a movie?” Her eyes lit up. Willow loved movies at home.
“I thought it was time for another one. Different genre.”
“Like what?”
She led him from the greenhouse carrying a huge basket of vegetables. Chad took it from her outside the door shaking his head. “I know you can do it yourself but sometimes I’ve got to at least pretend to be a gentleman.”
“Oh you’re a gentleman alright. No one could argue with that.”
“Do I hear a complaint in there somewhere?” Chad teased knowing exactly why she was teasing him. It was April already and still he hadn’t kissed her. He’d decided to hold out for after the rehearsal dinner just to keep things interesting.
“You aren’t as subtle as you think you are.”
At the kitchen sink, Chad sat the basket on the counter and smiled smugly. “My mom is right you know.”
“About what?” Her absent response amused him. When she got in the middle of working, sometimes she entered another world all together.
Knowing it would unsettle her enough to make her listen, Chad wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. “Mom says we’re going to be pathetic saps like her and pop.”
“I wouldn’t know, Willow commented dryly. “Sap I’ve seen is a little different than sap I’ve tapped.”
“Oh good one!” He stifled a guffaw and grabbed a tall stool from the pantry. “Do I scrub or just rinse?”
“Neither. Take the towels, wet them and wring them out, and then just layer between rows of carrots. It’ll keep them crisp.”
“Radishes too?”
“When I get there.”
They worked at packing several dozen carrots, radishes, lettuce, and spinach bunches while they discussed the wedding plans. Chad was surprised to hear she’d rented a dance floor from a place suggested by Alexa Hartfield, hired a caterer suggested by the Confectionary, and buggy rides were on the horizon. “I didn’t know you’d made so many plans. You wanted things simple but this doesn’t sound simple to me.”
“You wanted a celebration. I’m creating one. I get my way on when; you get your way on what, and voila. We’re both happy.”
His gaze nearly unnerved her. “You amaze me sometimes. Forget sometimes, most of the time.”
“Is that good or bad?” The tone in her voice was overtly coy.
“Little miss flirtatious, aren’t we?”
“I’m engaged, I have that right.” She handed him a small radish. “Taste?”
“Delicious.” He chewed it and then grinned. “But I’d rather have ice cream, cherry almond bars, cobbler…”
“Junk food.”
His laughter surprised her. “Your definition of junk food is far from that of most people’s. Everything you eat is made from scratch, with simple wholesome ingredients. It’s almost health food to eat your cobbler.”
The disgusted look on her face made him glad she’d never heard of tofu. “Maybe to someone who eats food out of a box with unpronounceable ingredients but it’s still a lot of sugar and often white flour.”
“My friends.”
She rinsed another carrot and shoved it into his hands. “Eat a carrot.”
***
“Six weeks.” The words dropped into the air and hung there expectantly.
“You can count,” Willow acknowledged confused.
“It seems like time has flown by and is crawling at the same time.”
“Do you wish we’d chosen fall?”
“No way. I wish we hadn’t waited so long.” Chad’s voice seemed frustrated but Willow wasn’t sure if it was with her or with waiting.
“Am I doing something irritating again or are you tired of half living in two homes?”
Chad sat in the opposite corner of the couch, hands behind his head, eyes closed, and utterly relaxed. Without moving, he answered lazily, “You’re not irritating lass.”
She always marveled at how he could lay for hours, hands behind his head, and eyes closed. He rarely spoke and when he did, even his voice sounded too relaxed to bother speaking too quickly. Willow set aside her rug. It was down to the binding and she was eager to finish but somehow the sight of him lying there relaxed and comfortable made her long for childhood days curled next to her mother as she lay on the chaise arms just like Chad’s, and read from Willow’s open book.
“You ok?” Willow’s head on his chest sent Chad’s eyes flying open and one arm curled around her shoulder.
“Mm hmm.”
Time passed but neither of them noticed the clock ticking the seconds by as lazily as they felt. Willow almost felt guilty at the pleasure she enjoyed as the result of a wasted afternoon. Her rug lay unbound on the floor at the base of the couch, dinner never started, and even the laundry that hung outside on the line was left abandoned to the elements as they dozed curled up in the corner of the couch.
“I’m hungry,” Chad finally admitted.
“Me too.”
“I don’t want to get up.”
She stirred starting to sit up but he pulled her comfortably against him again. “Then don’t.”
“Well, I have to find something to eat. We skipped lunch and I won’t make it until breakfast.”
“But I don’t want to get up. This is much too comfortable,” Chad protested illogically.
He was right. Somehow, it felt like a lazy summer afternoon stretching out ahead of them. “You ordered food delivered once, didn’t you?”
“I did some major bribing too. I wonder-”
Chad dug out his cell phone and flipped it open. With a wink at Willow, he dialed Ryder’s cell phone and waited impatiently for him to answer. “Hey Ry, I have a favor.”
As Chad snapped his phone shut, Willow adjusted herself more comfortably at his side, grabbed a throw pillow for his head, and promptly fell asleep again. It seemed to Chad that all the stress, angst, and worry of the past months had finally oozed their way out of the farmhouse on one very lazy April afternoon. He didn’t move when heard Ryder’s car arrive with dinner or when the boy brought bags of burgers and fries in and set them on the coffee table.
“Rough day?” Ryder whispered smiling at the picture. Willow deserved someone to give her all the warm fuzzy stuff girls liked.
“Nope. It was a dozy.”
“Do you mean Dussie?”
“No. Dozy. We both dozed.” Chad pulled his wallet from his back pocket and passed it to Ryder. “Get your money back from there and enough to cover caring for the animals. Oh, and would you bring some plates and napkins?”
Willow stirred burying her head into his shoulder with a sigh. The men grinned at each other before Ryder hurried to gather the requested items. Chad waited to hear the barn doors open and then squeezed her shoulder gently. “Hey lass. Wake up. Dinner’s here.”
“Dinner?” Willow hardly acknowledged him.
He shook her again tickling her. “Come on, wake up. It’ll get cold.”
Willow sat up, stood unsteadily, and dragged herself to the stove. She piled extra wood on the coals and teased it into a roaring fire before slamming the door shut and hurrying back to his side. Confused Chad pulled her closer. “Are you cold?”
“No, you said you were.”
“No I didn’t,” he protested laughing. “I said the food would get cold.”
“Is that what smells so good?”
“Mmm hmmm.”
She sat upright blinking and rubbing her eyes. “Let’s eat.”
Ryder heard Chad’s laughter as he shooed the chickens into the coop and smiled. He respected Chad, adored Willow, and loved watching their relationship. Most adults treated him like a pest but not Chad and Willow. They’d defended him when no one trusted him and it seemed to Ryder that they were being rewarded for it now.
***
“That was the best thing I’ve ever eaten. It was so good!”
“I can’t believe you’ve never had a burger. How have we made it almost a year without-”
Shrugging, Willow grabbed the last fry and popped it in her mouth. “I can’t believe I’ve known you for almost a year. It’s hard to remember that a year ago it was just Mother, Othello, and me.”
“Speaking of Othello,” Chad interrupted trying to steer the conversation from her losses, “Uncle Zeke has more pups. Want to go pick one?”
“I want a border collie this time. Black and white. Where do I buy one?” Willow had been thinking about new dogs for weeks.
“I’ll get you one for a wedding present.”
“Really?” Her delight was enough to remove any thoughts that it wasn’t much of a gift. “Does that mean I get to give you something?” Suddenly, Willow knew exactly what gift to give him.
“That depends. Will I like it?”
Now, she wasn’t so sure. What if her idea wasn’t something he wanted after all? “I think-” She chewed her lip uncertainly. “Well, I hope-”
“Silly lass, of course I will. If you give it, I’ll love it. It’s that simple.”
“I hope so,” she whispered. “I thought you had a movie for me.”
“I’m going to start you on action flick. I got a mild one to start and if you like it, we’ll move up to something more complicated.”
“What’s it called?”
“National Treasure.”
Willow shrugged, picked up the dinner trash, tossed it in the woodstove, and carried dirty dishes into the sink. Chad heard her open the pantry door and smiled. She’d turned on the electricity again. This was going to be an interesting life. He couldn’t wait to start it.
The movie opened and immediately following the opening with young Benjamin Gates and his grandfather, Willow was hurled into the artic as Nicholas Cage led explorers to the wreckage of an historic ship. She fell in love with the pipe, jumped at explosion, and then was immersed into the movie at full speed. From the first meeting with Abigail Chase to the entrance of the crypt, she jumped at tense scenes, laughed at Riley’s comical comments, and then grabbed Chad terrified as the ropes snapped in the caverns beneath the church.
“Tell me they don’t die.”
“They don’t die.” He’d expected a squeal with the skeleton in the ship and had been disappointed. When they opened the crypt, he was sure he’d at least get an ‘ew’ but she hardly blinked. However, as the Declaration of Independence rolled toward the edge of oblivion, she buried her head and threatened Benjamin Gates’ life if he dared to let it fall.
The irony of the kiss in the middle of a chase scene and the subsequent joke was lost on her but she howled at Riley’s pronouncement on the beauty of stairs. He waited anxiously for her impression. Somehow, he didn’t expect her to be ready for the sequel anytime soon.
“So, do they make movies like this that are a bit more believable?” At the look on his face, she hastened to explain. “This was fun and an interesting plot but it’s riddled with holes and inaccuracies. Do they do similar things that aren’t so obviously impossible?”
“I’ll get the Bournes.”
“Who is born?” she asked curiously.
Laughing, Chad turned off the movie and closed the laptop. He lit the oil lamp, brought her a cup of tea, and returned to the couch with a cup of coffee. “I’ll bring it tomorrow. I’ve got to see your face on this one.”
Stretch. Oh the feeling of waking up in your own warm bed! Chad rolled onto one side and opened one eye. Eleven-thirty. What time was he on duty- was he on duty today? How had he gotten into bed anyway? Didn’t he-
Willow! Chad flung the covers off him and bolted from the bed. “Willow?”
The living room was empty. The kitchen, bathroom, and even his closet, though he couldn’t understand why he’d looked there once he thought about it, were also empty. Nothing made sense. Hadn’t he gone to get her? He grabbed for his cell phone but it was gone. He shook his head trying to clear the muddied thoughts clouding his mind and making it impossible to think clearly.
In his peripheral vision, he saw his phone sitting on the corner of the counter. Strange. He didn’t remember taking it out of his pocket. Where was Willow? Surely she wouldn’t go out when he’d- He had gone to get her hadn’t he?”
The last two calls were from the chief but he remembered his next to last call being from Willow at his mother’s house. He raced to the bathroom and examined every inch of him in the medicine cabinet mirror. Nothing looked like a hypodermic injection site. “You’re losing it man. Last time you remembered nothing, not something that didn’t happen. Get a grip. Call the chief.”
“Chief-”
“Good, you’re up. Ok, so they’re going to haul her in after the coroner’s preliminary report is completed. The scratches were made post mortem.”
“Seriously?” Relief washed over him. A few more hours. “So did I go get Willow or not?”
“Of course you did, she answered your phone not three hours ago.”
“She answered-” Alarm coupled with more than a little anger washed over Chad. “What did you tell her?”
“Told her to tell you the tipster said she’s safe and that you’d know what to do.”
“Gotta go Chief.”
“What?”
“Willow went home.”
“Take the cruiser and use the siren.”
“It’s not that imperative,” Chad argued.
“It’ll scare some sense into her though.”
Knowing the Chief was right, Chad burst through his front door, slamming it shut behind him and raced down the front steps. He ignored cheerful calls of ‘good morning’ by several neighbors, flipped on the lights and siren, and tore down the street as quickly as he safely could.
On the highway, Chad prayed. He punched Luke’s number and waited for his cousin to answer. “Pray.”
Without another word, Chad disconnected the call, and tore down Willow’s driveway ignoring the protesting shocks of his cruiser. Willow raced from her house to meet the car. “What is it? What’s wrong? They didn’t go to your house did they? The chief said it was safe!”
Chad grabbed her shoulders fighting the urge to shake her until some semblance of sense rattled in her brain. “What the h-” He stopped. Swearing wasn’t going to make things any better. “What did you think you were doing? I drove to Westbury at three-thirty in the morning, tore you from your bed, raced back to Fairbury, hid you in my house, stood guard over you until I collapsed…” He took another deep breath. “And you just walked out! How selfish can you be?”
“Selfish? I don’t get it. The Chief said I was safe!”
He hadn’t expected anger. Foolishly, he’d imagined that she’d understand and at least show a little penitence for scaring the stuffing out of him. ”What exactly did the Chief say?”
“‘Tell Chad the tipster says you’re safe. He’ll know what to do.’”
He waited. Seconds passed, then minutes. She shivered. Suddenly she noticed that he wasn’t watching her. The lights of the car still spun crazy red and blue over the snow but his eyes- they never looked directly at her. They shifted from the hills around them, to the fields, and over to the barn.
“What-” her teeth chattered.
“Let’s get you inside,” he sighed. He reached into his car and snapped off the lights impatiently.
Her house smelled like home. It had the same hint of smokiness, scent of lavender, and water boiled on both stoves adding moisture back into the air that the stoves removed just as quickly. Stew simmered on the kitchen stove already. It looked as though she was ready to make soap again. She’d jumped into her normal life as though nothing happened.
Willow knew he was upset but didn’t understand why. She was safe. What was the problem? The frustration in Chad’s eyes made her smile inwardly. In seconds he’d stuff his hands into his pockets and then he’d talk to her- make her understand. It’s what Chad did.
But he didn’t. To her surprise, Chad sank into the rocking chair next to the stove. She’d never seen him sit there in the months that she’d known him. He always sat in Mother’s chair, sometimes turning it around and sitting backwards on it while draping his arms over it. His head hung into his hands and his back rose and fell with careful and deliberate deep breaths.
Uncertain of what to do, Willow did what came instinctively. She laid her hand at the base of his neck and kneaded the muscles. Chad didn’t move but she felt him relax as her hand worked the knots out of his neck and shoulders. Minutes passed and neither said a word. Willow wondered what was so wrong and Chad wondered how he’d manage to survive the next fifty years with her and suddenly realizing how much he felt like he couldn’t survive the next fifty without her.
Another deep breath shuddered through him as he tried to calm resurfacing anger. The longer he sat and imagined the terrible things that could have happened, the angrier he grew. She had to learn to think out of the snow globe-like bubble of her own little world.
Just as he opened his mouth to give her a well-deserved tongue-lashing, Willow realized that she’d missed something. She wasn’t sure what, but she was sure that she had frightened people who cared about her and the realization of what that meant cut her. She settled herself in Chad’s lap, wrapped her arms around his neck, laid her head on his shoulder as she might have years before with her mother, and whispered, “I’m sorry Chad. I don’t understand, but I am so sorry.”
“Aww Willow. You scared us. I need to call the Chief and let him know you’re ok.”
“Then I’m not safe?” she was confused.
“Give me a minute. I’ll explain.”
She started to rise so he could dig his phone from his pocket but he wrapped an arm around her waist and held her close. “You’re not going anywhere for a while.” His phone retrieved, Chad punched the Chief’s number and left word of her safety. “You can’t forget, sir, she doesn’t think like we do. She doesn’t watch TV, doesn’t read newspapers, and doesn’t know how informants work.”
Once the call disconnected, Chad sat rocking the chair, praying, and trying to find a way to overcome his anger. It was easier to be understanding when he was talking to someone else. Talking to her, on the other hand, was an entirely different story. He wanted to tear into her with both guns blazing.
“Willow-” his voice, low and earnest, startled her.
“What did I do? I heard you talking to the chief but I don’t understand.” To her utter disgust and frustration, tears hovered in her voice.
“Aww, lass, I just-”
“Lass?”
“Well if I’m laddie, you have to be lassie but my Willow isn’t a dog so I shortened it to lass.”
“Lass. I like it,” Willow murmured relaxing once again.
“Anyway,” he continued as though uninterrupted, “I just think you’re going to have to acclimate yourself to the ‘real world’ just a bit more. Do you know what an informant does?”
“Is that the same as a tipster?”
“Yes.”
She thought. “They know things that other people might want to know so they tell them- either because they’re pretending to be on the wrong side when they aren’t, or they are paid to provide information.”
“Ok, that’s good. Exactly right. So what do we know about the information when it comes in?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s right,” he agreed smiling into her eyes. “We don’t know anything about it. It could be good, bad, or indifferent. We don’t know. We have to take every threat seriously and any retraction with a grain of salt. We just don’t know.”
Her eyes grew wide. “So if someone Solari paid to hurt me wanted to find me when he saw I was gone, the best way to get me would be to put the word out that I was safe and hope it got back to me so I’d come out in the open again?”
“She’s catching on,” Chad said to nobody in particular.
“No wonder you were mad.”
“I was just scared Willow-”
She shook her head vehemently. “That’s a lie. You were furious. Ready-to-bite-my-head-off-and-I-don’t-blame-you-for-it mad.”
“You do this. You get something into your head and you just do it. You don’t think about the consequences of your actions and you especially don’t consider how it’ll affect those who are around you and don’t want to see you hurt.”
Resisting his tug, Willow got up to get a drink of water and consider his words. “I can’t understand why you don’t thrash me sometimes.”
“I love you. You don’t thrash the people you love- usually.”
“I never had to think of all of this stuff,” she complained. “Sure, I told Mother if I was going to go somewhere, that’s common courtesy. Just like I told you in the note that I was going home. I just didn’t have to think about whether or not someone’s word was trustworthy or if being anywhere near home was safe or not. Home was safe. Ever since Mother died, home has gotten less and less safe. I hate it.”
Slowly, Chad beckoned her back to the chair. “Come here Willow.” She hesitated. Nothing he could say would remove the pain of the loss of her mother and her freedom. Why be disappointed? But the look in his eyes, the care and compassion he showed even while still irritated with her for her folly- she couldn’t ignore it.
He pulled her onto his other leg, reversing her position and rocked again. There was something strangely comforting in the motion. “We’re going to get her.”
“Her?”
He’d forgotten. No one had told her that Lynne was responsible for Steve’s death. “Oh Willow.”
“I thought it was lass now?”
“Lass then!” he interjected impatiently. “I- Lynne killed her husband. They just got a preliminary report and it puts her at the scene after both men were dead. She was seen, they have DNA that’ll eventually prove her guilt, and she’ll either go to prison or get the death penalty.”
“Then we’ll all be safe?”
“We’ll all be safe once she’s arraigned.”
Her next words punched him in the gut. “I want to see her.”
“What?”
“I want to see her. She doesn’t know that I knew I might not be safe. Once she’s arrested and it makes the papers, I want to see her.”
This was beyond Chad’s comprehension. “Why?”
“She’s lost Chad. She’s a sinner who is lost and broken and may die soon. She needs Jesus. I want to see her.”
Before Chad could answer, Willow excused herself upstairs. As he listened to her feet skipping lightly up the stairs, he rocked. “Wow.”
***
Lynne waited at the table. Her bail hearing had been a wash. No bail. Someone took the eighth amendment regarding bail a little too seriously in her opinion. No one could call zero bail too high of a monetary price. Her lawyer was appealing. She hoped he had good news.
Willow’s entrance surprised her. It wasn’t her lawyer after all. What was her granddaughter doing here? “Willow?”
“Hello. I read you were here and I asked if I could see you.”
“I didn’t do it Willow. You’ve got to get them to let me out of here. I’m going crazy. After the arraignment I’m going to be sent to a regular prison while I await trial. They’ll put me in a cell with Butchette and-” Lynne covered her mouth in horror at the images Willow couldn’t imagine from her side of the table. “Please. Help me.”
“I am here to help Lynne, but I doubt in the way you hope. I brought you something.”
Willow passed the plain Bible box across the table. It’d been wrapped beautifully but by the time the screeners got done with it, even the binding was lose. They’d poked and prodded at every inch of it until Willow thought she’d go crazy. Her beautiful package was reduced to nothing.
“You’re kidding, right? A Bible? What am I supposed to do with that?”
“I hoped you’d read it. I had it marked but I think they messed it up.” She turned quickly to Mark and slid one of the ribbon markers in place. “Read here. It’s a short book. You’ll meet Jesus and right now, there’s nothing you need more than Jesus.”
“Get the-”
Willow stood. “I’m leaving. I’m praying for you, and if you go on trial, I’ll sit in the courtroom as much as I can and pray for you.”
Willow left the Bible on the table, and followed the guard from the room. Lynne shoved the box onto the floor and waited impatiently for another guard to take her back to her cell. Her granddaughter thought religion would solve everything. Great. Now what?
Late that night, Lynne dreamed. Women in pretty dresses and men wearing suits and ties sang songs about heaven. An organ played. A man talked about love and forgiveness. Then he saw her. The one who carried the money baskets. He pointed to the door menacingly. Her stringy hair, rumpled clothing, and sensual mother assured her a ticket out of the church but every week she crept back. It was worth the humiliation to hear the music, listen to the beautiful words. No one wanted her there but she wanted what they had. She wanted that peace on their faces. She needed that peace.
She woke in a sweat. That was the appeal of Willow. She was like those people from that church. She had that peace, that innocence. Confidence and strength from within oozed from her pores.
All of the years Lynne had worked to prove herself just as good as those goody goodys at that little church seemed wasted. She wasn’t as good as they were and deep down, she’d always known it. For a moment, she longed for what she couldn’t imagine and didn’t have.
Her heart hardened. It was all an emotional game to make you look superior. Willow might be better than she was but those self-righteous people back in Hardvale were no better than she was. They should have wanted to help the little girl. They could have shown her how to iron a dress and wash her hair. They could have been kind.
“Hypocrites,” she muttered and then rolled over on the thin mattress and tried to drown out her surroundings once more.
Chad burst into his parents’ house at four-thirty Saturday morning. Taking the stairs two at a time, he raced into Willow’s room and shook her awake. “Willow, get up.”
“Wha-”
“We’re going home. Now. Let’s go.”
“Why?”
“I’ll tell you on the way. You have five minutes to grab whatever stuff you want to grab and come.”
“I can’t gather everything that fast,” she protested sleepily. “Go away.”
He reached into her closet, grabbed jeans and a sweater, and tossed them on the bed. “Four and a half minutes. Hurry.”
Downstairs, he scribbled a note for his parents, grabbed as many boxes of the gifts as he could, loaded them in the cruiser and seeing Willow at the bottom of the stairs, pointed to the door. “Go, I’ll grab your suitcase.”
“Wha-”
Six minutes after Chad entered the house, Willow and Chad sped toward Fairbury ignoring speed as though there were no laws, Chad explaining all the way. At seven o’clock, Christopher poured a cup of coffee and turned to lean against the counter as he’d done thousands of times over the past fifteen years. A note stuck to the fridge chilled him.
Mom and Dad,
Steve Solari is dead. His wife is in custody but they’ll have to let her go unless they can find a way to charge her. Chief Varney is trying to arrange a ‘look alike’ to be at your house by seven or eight. We’re trying to make it look like she’s there but we’re not sure. The officers had a tip that Willow is on Lynne Solari’s hit list but we think it’s bogus. However, we have no way of knowing it so if she is, you guys aren’t safe either. I’m so sorry. We’ll take good care of her, I promise and whoever they send here will take care of you.
Don’t call. I’ll call.
Love you,
Chad.
P.S. It goes without saying but, please pray.
***
Earlier that morning
“Ms. Solari?” The officer’s voice was more polite than questioning.
“Yes?”
“We’re going to have to ask you to open the gates. We’re from the Rockland police and we need to speak to you.”
“Sure- is anything wrong?” The grogginess in Lynne’s voice was genuine. She’d slept like a baby.
“Please open the gate ma’am.”
“Oh right. Sure.”
As the squad cars crept up the driveway, Lynne stared into the mirror. She looked sufficiently sleepy. Pulling the mask resting on her head over her eyes, she waited until the doorbell rang and pushed it up again. The light was blinding. Bad idea.
“Come in, come in. I’m sorry. The light bothered my eyes so I pulled my mask down but now it’s worse. I shouldn’t have-” Lynne rubbed them impatiently. “I’m sorry, can I help you?”
“May we sit down?”
Lynne’s face drained. She’d learned to control that years ago in theater acting and it came in handy sometimes. “What’s wrong? Is it my granddaughter?”
“Granddaughter?” The officers stared at one another. “Ma’am, I didn’t know you had a granddaughter.”
“Most people don’t but I do. Is she ok? I’ve been worried about her.”
The senior officer stopped her. “Ma’am, I am afraid I have bad news. It’s your husband.”
“Steve?”
“He was found dead a little over an hour ago. Someone reported shots fired-”
What little color that had returned to her face left once more making her look deathly ill. “Dead? I just saw him an hour or so ago! He was fine.”
“You saw him?” This wasn’t news to the officers. They knew she’d been there.
“He was fine!” she wailed. “That Mark Weinbecker! I’m going to kill him!”
“I’m afraid not ma’am. He’s dead too. Why did you say that?”
She collapsed sobbing presumably, as the full weight of their words sank in. She’d been careful not to react too quickly. She well knew how to play these people and Lynne had to play it perfectly. Regardless, her granddaughter was safe and that was worth it.
The officers waited for a minute or two as she struggled to compose herself. “I suppose you’re here because I was there. I’m a suspect.”
“Well, we’re here to notify you of course but yes, we do have a few questions.”
“The spouse is always a suspect. I can’t decide if that’s unfair or just a really sad commentary on our society.” She paused and then lifted tearful eyes to the junior officer. He’d be more easily fooled. “How- I mean, did he suffer?”
“Single gunshot to the head. Both of them. It looks like they aimed for each other-”
The senior officer interrupted but not before fresh tears washed over her. “I’m going to be blamed. I’m going to jail. I need Johnny Cochran. I never thought O.J. was innocent but now I see how-”
Her rantings made no sense to the officers. She hurried upstairs to dress and then came back down pulling on gloves minutes later. At the bottom of the stairs, she paused. “I think I should tell you, I scratched him.”
“Who?”
“Mark. He grabbed me, Steve was furious, so I started to slap him and then he laughed. I scratched him. I was trying for the eyes but I was too mad-” She glanced at her fingernails. “I washed my hands. I wonder if that’ll help or hurt me?”
As they placed her in the squad cars, she looked back up at the officers. “Is he really dead? Couldn’t he just be injured? Did they make sure?”
“They made sure. I’m very sorry for your loss.”
As he slammed the door shut, the junior officer stared across the top of the car at the other man. Their eyes met and both shrugged. That was a weird encounter.
***
Just outside Fairbury, Chad insisted Willow duck down in the seat and drove down several back streets slowly as though on patrol. “Ok, at the corner, I’m going to stop and pretend to talk on my radio. Take the key,” he dropped a key behind the seat,” and go down the back alley into my apartment, up the stairs as quietly as possible and let yourself in. If you see anyone, hide.”
“Are you sure this is necessary?”
“No. Just do it.”
Frustrated by the seeming paranoia surrounding everything, Willow slammed the door shut an stalked down the alley to his apartment, went inside, and nearly slammed the door shut before she remembered that she wasn’t supposed to be heard. She stood, livid and shaking, staring at the door, and then with all of her strength, swung an imaginary door shut. Again. And again. It felt wonderful for several swings until eventually she just felt foolish.
“AAAAA” she clamped her hand over her mouth. “Lord I am going to go crazy here!” Her silent prayer screamed in her mind.
Exhaustion washed over her. She and Marianne had stayed up until midnight with Cheri fitting dress pieces to her and getting the basic shape completed. Three and a half hour’s worth of sleep wasn’t sufficient. She eyed Chad’s bed longingly. Would he kill her? She didn’t care.
Chad found her snoring softly an hour later when he finally entered the apartment. He stood, for several minutes, fists in pockets leaning against the doorjamb, watching her sleep. She was going to get herself killed. She was going to get all of them killed.
His phone vibrated in his pocket and he stepped outside to answer it. “Chief?”
“They’re letting her go until after the coroner’s report. They can’t hold her so they’re acting like they did the routine questioning to satisfy the citizens.”
“So how safe is Willow?”
“Officer Moreno is at your house cooking a bunch of nothingness in your mother’s kitchen. You’d better call.”
Chad disconnected the call and dialed home. This wouldn’t be pleasant. His mother’s frantic, “Where is Willow!” nearly deafened him.
“Hello to you too, Mom.”
“Don’t you play games with me boy. Where is Willow and what the-”
“Don’t do it mom, you’ll regret it.” Chad loved it when his mother got in her ‘mama bear’ mode. She was down right adorable.
“Chadwick-”
“Elliot Tesdall, you answer me or I’ll- fill in the blank.”
“Embarrass you at your wedding,” his mother added without a pause.
“She’s sleeping. She’s out of danger at the moment- we think we overreacted but you can’t ignore a tip like that either. Not when someone else close to the threat has just died.”
Tears filled Marianne’s voice. “Should she go to Libby’s or-”
“She’s safest where we have her.”
“And you can’t tell me where that is?”
An unfamiliar firmness entered Chad’s voice making her feel reassured somehow. “No mom, I won’t. I’m not risking any of you. I’ll call later. Tell Moreno that Willow couldn’t cook with her burned hand anyway.”
Chad resumed his post in the doorway of his bedroom. He was exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to crawl under those covers, fall asleep, and hang anyone who thought it was inappropriate. Only the knowledge that his wife needed to trust him kept him watching vigilantly and from across the room.
***
Lynne smiled as she closed the door behind her. It was over. Over. There was no way they’d charge her. They’d even admitted they had to question her to cover their backsides. Willow was safe and with Steve gone, she’d be more willing to risk time with her.
Automatic shades darkened her room. She needed her sleep. She swore at the sound of the phone ringing. “What?”
“Finley woman is still at the house in Westbury.”
“Good.”
“Stay here?” the voice continued with a bored tone.
“Just check in a couple of times a day. Don’t panic if you don’t see her but if you notice she’s gone at odd hours, I want to know. She’ll be going back to Fairbury soon, I imagine.”
“Got it.”
Lynne sank blissfully into silk sheets and slept.
***
Willow inhaled deeply wondering why Chad’s scent was so strong. Her eyes opened. Chad stood in the doorway, hands stuffed in his pocket, head hanging, asleep. She slipped from the covers and crossed the room. His face looked relaxed again. She’d missed that.
One hand touched his face and as he stirred, she wrapped her arms around him laying her head on his chest. His eyes blinked open and his arms instinctively surrounded her. “Mornin’” he whispered.
“Hi.”
“Can we go sit down? I’m beat.” Chad grasped her hand and dragged himself to the couch pulling her beside him. In seconds, he was asleep.
Willow felt terrible. She’d been nothing but stress and worry for so long. After a while, his phone vibrated in his pocket but he still slept. Was it important? Should she wake him up? She tugged at his pocket to see if she could retrieve it before he woke.
“Hello,” she whispered.
“Willow? This is Chief Varney. Is Chad there?”
“He’s asleep.” Willow extracted herself from the couch and closed herself in the bedroom. “Should I wake him up?”
“No. He’s been up for too long. Tell him to call. Tell him the tipster says you’re safe now. He’ll know what to do.”
Willow snapped the phone shut. She could go home. She could go home. That was a wonderful feeling. She grabbed her jacket, wrote a note, and slipped out the door. She’d enjoyed her week, her hand was almost healed, she could do this. She was going home.
The library was hushed. Willow sat at the computer and tried to use it but was completely confused. The little square that Chad used to move his little arrow around wasn’t anywhere. She looked all over the keyboard, the monitor, and even moved the mouse and pad looking for it but she just couldn’t find it. She stood to ask for help and saw he young man next to her move the little flat-bottomed ball around and that seemed to work.
Trying again, she sat and moved the mouse around the pad and watched the arrow but couldn’t find the little buttons near the keyboard for clicking on things even though she also didn’t know what to click on in the first place. She stood again. The boy’s face met hers and he frowned. “Got a problem lady?”
“Yes. I can’t figure out how to use this thing.”
“You’re kidding me right?” he whispered back eyes bugging out of his head.
“I wish I was but I’m not. I need to find a place called Google and from there I’m supposed to be able to search for someone.”
“What are you trying to find?” The young man wasn’t normally a helpful person but the idea of someone so young so unfamiliar with the basics of a computer was an intriguing anomaly.
“My grandmother.”
He clicked around the screen for a second and asked, “Name?”
“Lynne Solari.”
“Is she related to the TV guy Solari? The one who owns half of Rockland’s entertainment?”
“I don’t know.”
“Probably not huh?” He worked for a few