“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.

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s insulting,” Willow retorted angrily.

“I call them like I see them Willow.”

“I still feel sorry for the bull.”

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

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

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

“She attacked-“

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

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

“OR?”

“Operating Room,” the three men said simultaneously.

“Why the OR?”

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

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

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

“Babies are coming.”

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well?  Is he, she, it ok?”

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

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

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

“It?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

“Boys.  You have two very healthy boys.”

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

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

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

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

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

1. Which one is he?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What did your granddad say, Lass?”

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

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

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

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

“I have three and a half more weeks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You read it?”

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

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

“He doesn’t like butchering?”

“Not chickens!”

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

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

“Carol mentioned something about that the other day.”

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

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

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

“Actually, I think she enjoys it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh that feels good.”

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

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

“You need another one down here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

1. She didn’t know.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you want me to go?”

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

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

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

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

“No.”

“How long since the contractions started?”

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

“Two hours.  Hmmm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My Kari was a strong woman.”

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

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

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

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

“Aiden.  He never learns.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m Dr. Kline.  How can I help?”

“Do something for Willow.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

David’s eyes widened.  “Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please stay.”

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

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.