Chapter 142~

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

***

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

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

“You’re telling me-“

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

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

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

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

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

“There was a bad accident the other day.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Ok.”  Her voice sounded small and confused.

“Let’s go then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See what I mean!”

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

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

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

“What!”

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

“You did it quickly enough.”

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

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

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

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

“At least mom-“

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

“Well yeah, but-“

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

“Don’t you think Willow could-“

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

“Yes but-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me about the accident this week.”

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s the job.”

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

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

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

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

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

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

“You seemed to mock everything I said today.”

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

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

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

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

“Not this time.”

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

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

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

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

“Now what do we do?”

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

Chapter 141~

July-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey Lass?  You up there?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

“What on earth are you doing, woman?”

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

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

“And how is your pump running without electricity?”

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

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

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

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

“Mom would have come…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Joe and Judith’ll kill you.”

“Brad too, but hey.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 140~

April-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I was thinking of your birthday…”

“Me too.”

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

“I wondered if maybe your mom—“

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

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

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

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

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

“We can go?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you like me that way.”

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

***

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

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

“But you wanted to make a dress…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll bring some home—“

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

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

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

“What about the boys’ diapers?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes m’lord.”

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

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

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

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

“No, what did you miss?”

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

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

“Laying,” she corrected sleepily.

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

“Good.  Night.”

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

Chapter 139~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

March-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ok.  I’m coming.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that dangerous?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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