You are currently browsing the daily archive for September 30th, 2008.
“Ok, Luke, now what?” Chad wiped his brow, thrilled that he’d managed to get the body of the dulcimer assembled.
“Sand.”
Chad sighed. He hated sanding. However, Luke pushed a chair his way and handed him a ball of steel wool. As he rubbed the wood to a glassy smooth polish, Chad talked. He talked about his dreams, his goals, and how it seemed that every day he walked further away from them to the opposite extreme of life.
“I mean, I always thought I’d become a cop. I did and I’m really not sorry. I want to be a cop. I just thought I’d be doing drug busts, or maybe negotiate hostage situations, or even internal affairs- Instead I ended up in Fairbury and I turned down my shot at the east side precinct.”
“Do you regret it?”
“No, that’s just it. I don’t. I keep seeing myself as part of the Fairbury police for a long time.”
Luke listened. He was an expert listener. He also was worth listening to when he spoke. Chad rambled about his house, how everyone complained of him living in limbo and how now he didn’t know where to start, what to do, and where to go.
“You just told me how much you love what is right in front of you yet you reject it.”
Chad set the dulcimer on the workbench and stood. “I know. It’s just so ridiculous.”
“Have you considered talking to her about it?”
A stunned look took Chad’s features hostage. “I’m-” he stammered, “I’m just supposed to say, ‘hey, why don’t we get married and then we don’t have to worry about what happens to our friendship if one of us gets married.’ Oh yeah, that makes sense.”
“Well, I’d give her a long time to think about it, and I’d probably make sure you don’t sound like you’re doing her a favor,” he teased. “Think about it.”
***
“Willow, I talked to my mom and she wants you to come for the day on Friday.”
“Well the last bus leaves for Fairbury-”
“That’s another thing,” he interrupted. ”I get Friday off and I don’t have to be at work until six on Saturday. We could stay over-”
“I have a goat-”
Grinning, Chad interrupted again. “But I have a solution!”
“What’s that?”
“I bring the oldest Allen kid out here and we teach him how to do it. That way, if you need to be gone, you have someone you can call if I can’t do it.”
“Why not just come home?” Willow liked the idea of more time with Chad’s mother but didn’t quite understand making long term plans to be gone from home more often.
“Let’s face it, most of the time, you can’t. Most of the time it’s not just about someone to bring in the chickens or milk the goat. You’re usually very busy and need to be here but this time of year is your opportunity to build relationships with people and if that means being away from home, then why not?”
“I don’t know-” she hedged. “Friday is your birthday. Your mother would probably prefer to have you there without me.”
“Are you calling mom a liar? Her exact words were, and I quote, ‘Tell Willow I want to take her to little India and a few of the craft stores while she’s in town.’”
Willow passed Chad his plate of roasted chicken and vegetables. “Do you think he can learn it?”
“Who?”
“The Allen’s boy- Caleb.”
“You’ll go?”
“I have to meet Grandmother at the Mad Hatter- what a name, at eleven thirty.”
For several minutes, they concentrated on their meals, and Willow thought about Chad’s suggestion. Was it irresponsible to ask someone to do her work? “Should I let Grandmother borrow Mother’s journals? I was thinking especially of the early ones.”
“No. I think she’d enjoy reading them and I know they’d be a lot of encouragement to her but you don’t know this woman. People change. She might not be the same person your mother loved and trusted so long ago.”
“You’re right. They’re not something I can loan and not expect back. I remember mother saying that you never loaned what you couldn’t give away. I’m not sure why- who would I have loaned anything to? I didn’t know anyone.”
Chad sensed her dissatisfaction. “You know, you could let me take them into town and make copies of them.”
“Copies?”
Somehow, Kari had never had a reason to explain the function and purpose of a copy machine. Willow was fascinated at the idea of a quick picture instantly printed on paper. I want to see one of those machines work sometime.”
Without another word, she left her half-full plate and hurried to retrieve her mother’s first two journals. “Thank you Chad.”
After dinner, Chad helped clean up the dishes, and while Willow mopped the floor, he loaded the stoves for the night before calling a goodnight and returning to his cruiser. “I’ll bring Caleb out tomorrow around four-thirty ok?”
“Thanks Chad!”
Once she heard the crunch of his tires on the new layer of snow, Willow crept from the kitchen and retrieved her knitting bag from the library. Though she was temped to sit down and start knitting, Willow forced herself to hurry upstairs and change into pajamas. Once on the couch, she smiled. The candles were also lit. Chad’s thoughtfulness warmed her heart and made the room seem less empty.
“Lord, I am lonely. Summer wasn’t so bad. Fall was bearable. Winter- I don’t know if I can make it until spring.”
Her knitting needles clicked expertly as she worked the final packet and collar of Chad’s birthday sweater. If she worked fast, she could get it done and be able to block it overnight. She held the piece up in the light and studied it. The heathered oatmeal merino yarn was perfect. She’d fallen in love with the Aryan sweater with an Irish collar years before and rejoiced when she noticed Chad’s birthday on his driver’s license one day.
The quiet seemed oppressive. She tried singing but felt even lonelier than ever as her voice echoed in empty rooms with no harmony accompanying her. Anxious to finish, Willow knitted faster. She dropped stitches, ripped out small sections, and tried again determined to go to bed as soon as possible.
In bed, the silent house made sense. The stark emptiness around her felt comfortable and normal when cuddled in bed with blankets and pillows around her. During the day, she and her mother had spent so much of their time doing their own things that it wasn’t unusual to be alone during the day. However, at dinner until they parted for bed, she’d had someone to talk to- to read with, and to share her dreams.
“I want my Mother,” she whispered mournfully as she wove the last yarn end into the sweater. “I am tired of being alone.”
***
Chad arrived at four-thirty with Caleb Allen and burst into the empty kitchen. “She’s not here-”
“Someone is in the barn, I think. What smells so good?”
Under the lid of the Dutch oven, Chad found a roast. “Oh man, roast.”
“She eats well anyway.”
“She eats a lot! She works hard an in summer puts away twice as much as I do.”
The ‘men’ found Willow in the summer kitchen dipping candles. Chad watched amazed as she dipped the candles in her large pot, dipped them in ice water, then dipped again in the pot. Paper cups lined the counters and rows of tiny tea lights sat cooling in paper lined trays.
“Sorry Chad, can you show him what to do? I got a late start today and now I’m really behind.”
“Only if I’m invited to dinner.”
“Sure. Both of you even-”
Caleb grinned but shook his head. “I wish I could but mom’s making my favorite casserole. I’ve been bugging her about it for weeks so I need to be there.”
Chad stood close to the stove and watched carefully as Willow dipped her candles in the tallow, dipped them in the ice bath, and then back to the tallow vat again. “What’s in there?”
“Tallow- beef fat from the cow, beeswax, alum, and some cinnamon oil.”
“Odd, I thought I smelled lavender.” He sniffed the pot. Definitely cinnamon. “Must be your hair,” he thought to himself.
“I am done with the plain and the lavender but I like cinnamon for December and February.”
Caleb found the scene most illuminating. He couldn’t wait to get home and share with his mother. Their family had been praying for Chad and Willow almost since the funeral but definitely since Willow’s conniption at church that Sunday. It looked like they must be righteous people because their fervent prayers appeared to be effectual.
As he led Chad out the door, he noticed Willow humming the tune she’d loved so much from his Argosy Junction CD. He glanced back and took a look at the candles all over the room and wondered just how many candles she’d made that day. How did she manage to get so much done without her mother’s help?
Dinner was delicious. After a long day literally slaving over a hot stove, Willow was exhausted. Chad sent her upstairs for a shower and promised to get the stoves loaded while she was gone.
She returned wearing the warm up suit Cheri had insisted she take home. It felt just as comfortable as her pajamas but didn’t feel like she was undressed while Chad was at her house. “Oh you got it out. Thanks!”
Willow sat on her rug loom and grabbed a handful of pieces. “I dumped my tray yesterday and now they’re all a mess.”
Without a word, Chad started sorting her colors while Willow chattered freely about her day, the candles, and the pattern of her rug. “I’m so excited. It’ll match the other one. I’ve never been especially fond of that long tree one in my room but I thought I’d like it when I made it.”
“What will you do with it?” For Chad, the idea that Willow would replace something before it was worn out.
“Well, I’ll probably add it to the dead ones in the attic. Mother thought they acted like insulation to help keep the house warmer so we put our old ones up there. I shouldn’t have done this. It’s really quite wasteful, the rug is just barely wearing on the edges-”
“I wondered-” It felt rude to ask but Chad imagined the rug lying behind his couch between it and the bar that separated his living room from his kitchen and loved the mental picture. It wasn’t too feminine and it’d make his family happy to see some kind of decorating attempt.
“So, what would a guy have to do to convince you to let him have the rug when you’re done with it?”
Her head snapped up from the frame where her hands deftly worked the wool strips in and out of the backing. “You want it?”
“I think it’d look cool between the couch and my bar-”
“Sure! Take it home tonight.”
Chad shook his head and murmured something about being patient but Willow was off on another tangent about her plans for replacing the rugs in the library with book quote rugs. “It’ll be forever before those rugs wear out so I have time to choose my quotes.”
After a few more moments of silence, she sighed contentedly. “It’s nice to have someone to talk to. This week has been especially lonely at night.”
Chad’s throat constricted and his mouth went dry. He’d just been mulling that their relationship was perfect the way it was and he didn’t need to introduce anything as pressure-filled as marriage into the recipe. “Aww Willow,” he choked. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize-”
“It wasn’t so bad in summer and fall but it’s so quiet in here at night. I like the solitude sometimes but other times it’s just- just-” she paused and then whispered, “Awful.”
His hand covered hers for a moment. “This is exactly why going to Rockland is a good idea.” The word quiet bounced through his mind for a while. “Hey, would audio books be enjoyable?”
“Audio books?”
“Books read aloud and on CD or MP3.” A blank look masked her face. He waited several seconds and tried again. “Would you enjoy listening to books read aloud by others?”
She reached for her Alexa Hartfield novel but he waved her back. “I’m not reading it. Reading aloud isn’t my thing but I can take care of too much quiet when you want to work on something.”
She shrugged and grabbed another pile of blue wool from his knee. “It sounds wonderful. I don’t really understand but if you think it’s a good idea take my card and go buy it before I go crazy.”
