As her living room erupted in arguments, Willow pinched the bridge of her nose, folded her hands, clenched her fists, and eventually stood and made a guttural yell.  “I cannot stand this!”

From the corner, Chad smirked.  Marianne glanced at him and then at Willow.  Jostling Liam on her knee, she glanced at Carol and then at Chad again.  “What, Chad?”

“I just can’t believe, after all this time, that you guys don’t know Willow well enough to know that animated arguments against something she obviously wants to do is an effective way of getting her to listen to you.”

“Stuff it, Chad.”

“Furthermore,” he added, ignoring his wife’s admonition, “I can’t believe the people who taught me that the reason the abortion industry was so successful was because Christians weren’t willing to step up and make self-sacrificial decisions are sitting in my living room telling me how it’s too much for us to attempt.”

“You don’t have to be the single-handed savior of all mankind, Chad!”  Marianne snuggled the baby closer.  “These boys need their mother and father’s full attention.”

“So if Willow brought you two pink lines tomorrow, you’d be upset.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t!  That’s a terrible thing to say.”  Marianne stared at her husband as he choked on his coffee.  “What!”

“Don’t ever tell me again how hypocritical the Wheelers are about favoring their biological grandchildren over the two that Jayne and Mitch adopted.”

Chad’s mother had the decency to blush.  “That’s not what I meant, it’s just that—“  She fought to explain herself.  “I mean, if Chad and Willow were talking about this in two years, I’d be all for it.  If she got pregnant today, it’d obviously be something the Lord blessed them with—“

“But our God, in His infinite grace and mercy, couldn’t possibly be blessing us with a baby right now, unless it is biological.  I’m really glad He doesn’t feel that way about us when we come to Him for adoption.”  Willow’s eyes flashed.  “I can see it now, ‘Sorry my child-to-be, I’m a bit overburdened with children at the moment, but if you can wait a year or two, oh and pray you don’t die in the meantime, then I’ll be happy to make you one of my own children.’”  She stood and grabbed her empty cup.  “I expected opposition, but I expected it from an entirely different angle.  I never thought I’d see Christians willing to risk abortion for a baby or that an unsaved girl would give the child to unsaved parents.  Frankly, I’m disgusted.”

Before anyone could reply, Willow carried her cup to the kitchen, added a log to the stove, grabbed her coat, and let herself out the back door, not caring that it slammed shut behind her.  Chad surveyed the room curiously.  “I haven’t heard anything from Granddad.  What aren’t you saying?”

“I’ve been thinking.  That’s all.”

“About what?”  Carol’s initial voiced disapproval hadn’t been repeated, but it was clear from her features that she hadn’t changed her mind.

“Well, a lot of the objections expressed are concerning Willow and her work here.”

“She’s up at sunrise, in bed late, and even has to hire help to get it all done.  Where will she put in another baby?”  Marianne nodded her support of Carol’s words.

“All of that is optional.”  David looked at Chad.  “What would happen if Willow discovered she couldn’t keep up with the farm or the expansions you’ve made on it?”

“She’d either hire it out or put a stop to it.  The boys come first.”

“But she hired—“

“Someone to do the housework—“

“—instead of doing it herself,” Carol finished without acknowledging Chad’s interruption.  She shook her head, frustrated.  “Her solution when she couldn’t keep up, was to hire out the work closest to home and family.  What will keep her from hiring out child care from eight to five every day when the boys get more active?”

“That was my solution to her overworking herself.”  David’s quiet correction seemed to reverberate around the room.

Seeing the shift in discussion, Marianne kicked Christopher gently.  “Help me explain.”

“I can’t.”

Stunned, she blurted, “Why not!”

“Because I don’t happen to agree with you.  Libby has children that close together.  They never seemed to suffer for it.”

“And what if Willow gets pregnant half-way through this girl’s pregnancy?  Can you imagine the turmoil for that poor girl when she has to find another couple to adopt her child when she thought she had the perfect family?”

Chad’s quiet voice answered before Christopher could formulate a coherent response.  “We wouldn’t renege, mom.”

“Glad to hear it, son.”  The pride in Christopher’s voice was matched in David’s eyes.

“What!”  Carol and Marianne stared at each other, stunned.

“If we agree to do this, we’re not backing out when it becomes inconvenient.”  He took a deep breath.  “Besides, her obstetrician in Rockland says that he doesn’t think Willow can conceive without intervention.”

“So, she does the drug thing again—“

Christopher nearly exploded at his wife.  “I never thought that you could be such a hypocrite, Marianne.  After the grief you gave Willow about doing it in the first place…”

“I was just upset that she left Chad out of the equation, Christopher Tesdall!”

“Um, Mom?”  Chad’s voice indicated a dissenting opinion.  “No, you terrified her with stories of multiples.  Willow won’t risk clomid again.  Not that I blame her,” he hastened to add.

David preempted a new round of questioning with his own.  “So, tell us.  Why did you ask us here?  What did you want to hear?”

Before Chad could answer, Carol pointed to the back door.  “Shouldn’t someone go out there?  Isn’t she going to feel ignored?”

“Willow didn’t leave to get attention.  She’s out there talking with the Lord and we’d just be intruding.”

David nodded at Chad’s answer and gestured for him to continue.  “Which gives you time to tell us what you think.”

“We wanted to know if there were concerns we should have considered and didn’t, and we wanted to know if you thought having the child’s father around all the time would make things difficult.”

“I take it you already decided that the closeness of age isn’t a problem for you?”  Christopher knew his son and knew they wouldn’t be considering adoption if that was a concern.

“Yes.”

“So you are mostly concerned with this boy being in your home with his child that you are raising?”  David rephrased as a way to stall his response, and Chad knew it.

“Yes.”

Seeing David’s hesitation, Christopher decided to give his input.  “I think it could be hard—very hard.  The boy may decide he regrets his decision.  If he’s around in a few years, if you have to discipline that child, he may find it hard to take.  He may also think that because he is the biological father, he has a right to input on how the child is reared.  All of that can make a hard situation harder.”  Before Chad could respond, Christopher continued.  “But, I think it might also be a very nice thing for him.  Even with the downsides, Ryder will see daily that his actions have consequences, even if they’re good ones, and it might make him a more careful person in the end.”

“I was thinking that since this boy isn’t saved, it’d be a perfect, in his face daily, example of how God adopts us as His own.  It might open doors of discussion that he otherwise wouldn’t have entered.”  Sending Carol a look of apology, he added.  “I think giving this baby a home to avoid abortion is reason enough to accept.  However, even if the child had the best home possible, coming from you two, this is an excellent opportunity for Ryder to see Christ’s love in action.  He’d be unlikely to see that even from another Christian family because he wouldn’t see his child again.  If you want a yes you should or no you shouldn’t from me, I’m saying yes.”

“I second the motion,” Christopher added.

“But—“

With the kind of infinite patience that Chad had received from his father all his life, Christopher turned to his wife.  “Did you hear what Chad said?  He said that Willow wasn’t willing to use the clomid again.  He said the doctor thinks they won’t conceive without intervention.  We can’t know that another opportunity like this will come.”

“They can seek it out later, Christopher.  They can go to an agency, go to China, go to Ethiopia…”

“How many people do we know who have said the same thing  but never did it—including ourselves?”

“But—“

“You don’t have to agree, Marianne.  I’m not expecting you to hold my opinion, but Chad asked for it, and I gave it.  I think they should do this.”

Carol, wrestling in prayer while the discussion continued around her, opened her eyes and said, “My objections are personal and selfish.  I’m answering based upon my own preferences and experience.  If Willow thinks she’s up to the task, if you support her, I’m one hundred percent behind you.  I do not want her to ever think that my concerns over this idea were out of a lack of interest in the child.”

Grateful, Chad stood and hugged Willow’s grandmother.  “Thank you.”

“Oh, Chad!  You don’t think we’d reject the child!”

“Honestly, no.  I didn’t.  I don’t even think Willow assumes that, but I can’t be sure.  You know how she is.  She doesn’t think like we expect her to sometimes.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

As Chad left to go get his wife and tell her they had the family’s blessing, he overheard Marianne ask Carol, “Oh, I wonder what the baby’s name will be!”

***

January—

It’s been two weeks since we told Ryder and Chelsea that we’d adopt the baby.  We made three requests of them.  First, that she use Dr. Kline.  After all, we’re paying for it, we want a doctor we trust.  She was fine with that.  We’ll take her to whatever appointments her mother can’t take time off to go with her.  She said she could drive herself, but if she got bad news at an appointment, I think she should have someone there with her.  She agreed.  Second, we asked for an ultrasound or two if necessary to find out what the baby is.  That made her happy.  I guess Ryder convinced her that I wouldn’t want her to submit herself to unnecessary intervention.  I just want to know if I can start sewing pink or not!  Finally, we asked them both to go to counseling with us.  Tom Allen.  Since Ryder is such a part of our lives, and since Chelsea and her parents live so close and will see us with the baby, we wanted to be sure that we’re all helped with how to relate to one another as things change.

When Chad first suggested it, I thought he was crazy.  I’m not accustomed to thinking like that, but Granddad, Dad, Mom, and Grandmom all agreed that it was a brilliant idea.  Renee the lawyer did some research for us and said that she thinks it’s a good idea.  I hope they all know what they’re talking about.  To be honest, I only agreed because I think any time at all with those two and an open Bible is a good idea.

Someone left the greenhouse door open and we lost everything.  Ryder is out there now, clearing out the old, adding it to the compost pile, and replanting new.  The celery was a huge disappointment for both of us.  It takes so long to grow, needs such cooler temperatures, and my customers are disappointed.  Apparently it tastes better than store stuff.  We’ll see soon.  Chad is bringing some home for soup.

I spend my days playing with the boys, working with wool and then spinning it, and planning the fall Boho line.  I am so glad I got spring’s done ahead of time.  Chad found a place that will print my own fabric designs, so I had him order what designed and it arrived today.  This is going to be so much fun!  Is it wrong to hope this baby is a girl so I can design for her too?

Lee and I talked about the designing thing.  I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to keep up and do the samples as well as the designs.  I told her that I thought I should resign now, because it’d be hard for them to find someone to do it in time if I got too busy.  Apparently, that isn’t an issue for her.  She assures me that if I draw them, they’ll get someone to make them if I can’t.  She even offered to send a seamstress to the house to work with me so that any changes I want to make during construction can be done.  I guess the line is that successful.  I’m still amazed when I see a child walking down the streets of Fairbury wearing something that I imagined, drew, and then sewed into a sample for a store!  Mother would be proud.  Even though she would never have done it herself, she always liked what I came up with us for us.

The boys are ten months old.  Time seems to zoom by so quickly these days.  They wander all over the furniture, but neither one is willing to let go.  They’ll walk all over the house holding onto our fingers, but I’m going to be stooped permanently if I let them do it much more.  The pediatrician says they’re almost dead center of growth charts even though they’re twins.  I guess twins are usually a little below average for the first couple of years or something.  I get confused with it all sometimes.  You’d think with the numbers, I’d get it, but I just can’t quite understand it all.  Oh well.

Chad says they’ll be walking by their first birthday if not before.  He’s already had to put the gate at the top and bottom of the stairs to keep them off the silly things.  They like to bang things together and make noise, but I think my favorite thing is to watch them ‘talk’ to each other.  They do it.  Chad thinks I’m crazy, but I can tell that they understand each other.  They’ll sit and play, one will grunt and babble something, and the other will respond.  It’s amazing.  I thought they should try to talk more, but everyone tells me that they’ll talk when they’re ready.  Liam says no, but he says no for everything, so I don’t think he knows what he’s saying.

I have some amazing pictures of them and Chad with them.  I don’t have Wes’s talent, but I have managed to copy his style on several shots.  It’s obviously a copy—uninspired so to speak, but I love it and that’s all that matters.  There’s one of the boys sleeping in the crib, Liam’s hand is laying on Lucas’s cheek.  So sweet.  I have it hanging in the hallway.  Chad turned it into black and white before we printed it.  I need to learn how to do that stuff, but I hate staring at that stupid screen.

Marianne cracks me up.  She brought me this body brush, some kind of mineral salts, and some kind of body oil.  I’m supposed to use them to help get rid of the excess skin and stretch marks.  I don’t know if it’ll work, but since she obviously did it as a result of my whining, I kind of feel obligated to try.  I’ll be careful about complaining about anything too personal—who knows what she’d send then!  Eek!

The boys are up from their naps.  I hear them shaking the crib together.  They do that.  It’s amazing.  They stand there, and shake the upper rail until it sounds like an earthquake in there.  Honestly, there are times I’m afraid they’ll rock it over!  I think we’ll all take a nice walk to town and see Daddy on beat.  He likes it when we do that.  I need to remember to thank Grandmom for that stroller again.  It is the best thing ever.

Chad set the journal back on her bedside table and tiptoed from the room.  His shift started in thirty minutes.  As he stepped from their bedroom, he glanced across the hall at the closed door to Kari’s old room.  The new baby would likely sleep in there.  He opened the door carefully and glanced around trying to imagine it in daylight.  It’d need a few changes, but he hoped Willow wouldn’t change too much.  If they moved the big dresser out of the room, there’d be room for a crib in the corner.  That’d be good.

He drove away from home, ready for a new day at work and his heart swelling with gratitude.  He’d had a thought for a while, and now it was time to talk to the Chief.  “Lord, if Chief Varney would agree to it…”  Sighing, he gripped the steering wheel harder, “I’d be so grateful.”

One advantage to greenhouse growth in winter was the absence of pests.  Cutworms, aphids, spiders, and all the other usual pests were dead for the winter.  In their place, however was the constant battle with adequate light and the unpredictability of heirloom seeds.  All of Ryder’s hard work had produced very healthy looking tomato plants with fruit that refused to ripen.  He’d suggested removing the tomatoes to ripen off the vine, but the one Willow tried was pale and anemic—not to mention without flavor.

As she and Ryder debated fertilizer, location in the greenhouse, and other variables, Willow prayed fervently for words for wisdom in counseling him with his relationship.  Just as she opened her mouth to ask how serious he considered his relationship, she looked at the full spectrum lighting system and flipped the switch.  “The bulbs are dead.”

Ryder nodded as he opened the greenhouse door.  “I guess that’s the disadvantage to the automatic timer.  We didn’t see that they didn’t come on.  I’ll go get more.”

When he returned, Willow was ready.  “We enjoyed having you and Chelsea yesterday.  She’s a very passionate girl, isn’t she?”

“She’s really into the environment, if that’s what you mean.  She doesn’t get how arrogant it sounds to say, “We have to save the planet.”

“Save the planet?  From what?”

“Us.  The stupid things mankind does that is destructive to it.  I mean, I’m all for responsibility, but mankind can’t singlehandedly reverse the second law of thermodynamics.”

Willow nodded thoughtfully.  “As in all matter tends toward decay?  That’s the amazing thing about birth.  It is a constant proof that the ‘law’ is a generality rather than an absolute.”

“I just don’t see how throwing away all the plastic in your cupboards is going to solve anything.”

His thought process made no sense to Willow, but she decided to work with it.  “So, is she planning to attend Rockland University?”

“Yeah, unless she gets that scholarship to Northwestern.  I don’t think she’ll turn it down to stay here.”

“What are the chances of that?”

As he screwed in each bulb into the lamps,  Ryder opened up with uncharacteristic candor.  “Thankfully, high.  She’s great, but she’s a bit needy.  I don’t have time to focus on my classes, do my work out here, and give her all the time she wants.”  Ryder had the decency to look embarrassed.  “I’m not saying I’m trying to dump her or anything, but that scholarship would put us on a summers only kind of playing field.  Easier to manage if you know what I mean.”

“I think it’s probably wise.  If she’s the right girl today, she’ll still be the right one in a few years when you have your education finished and a start in whatever field you choose.”

Jonathan Landry found them working a while later and asked if he could help.  While he worked compost and manure into one of the raised beds, he asked intelligent questions about how they managed to grow vegetables when it was so cold outside.  Willow harvested carrots while she listened to Ryder patiently answer each of the boy’s questions.  He had a gift, her helper, for teaching while working without dumbing down the subject matter, and she knew then that he’d become a teacher rather than a research scientist.  Somehow, she also knew his parents wouldn’t approve.  There was no money in teaching from what Chad had told her.

***

Two days before New Year’s Day, Chad awoke at twelve-thirty in the afternoon, reached for his watch, and grabbed Willow’s journal instead.  Pulling the blankets up around his chin, he read her last entry with a smile on his lips.

December 26-

Grandmom and Granddad spent Christmas here this year.  Uncle Kyle and Aunt Sheryl were here too as were their children.  It’s hard to think of people my age as someone’s children, but then, I am Mother’s child so it makes sense in an awkward sort of way.  Bethel Ann has doesn’t like me.  I’ve tried to brush it off as shyness, not trusting the daughter of the woman who broke the family’s heart and deliberately at that.  However, after a full day of snide remarks about the boys, telling me about all the things our grandparents did with her and for her, and the general unease every time she opened her mouth, I am forced to conclude that she’s threatened by my existence.  She was always the ‘only granddaughter’ and treated like the family princess.  I guess she thinks she’s been de-throned.

So, aside from that little petite bundle of negativity, the day was really quite nice.  I had fun making gifts for everyone and everyone but Bethel Ann seemed to like their gifts.  Apparently, personalized journals are ‘so 2002’ whatever that means.  That snide remark did get her a sharp reproof from Uncle Kyle.  I felt badly, but how was I to know that the only thing appropriate to give teenagers was a gift card?  I am still recuperating from Cheri’s silly gift card spree last year.

Chad loved his saddle blanket.  I wasted a lot of wool and knitting on that thing until I got it right, but after a long time of boiling and then cutting to the right shape, I did it.  Lacey should be one very happy equine.  I hope he doesn’t tell her I made it.  She’ll probably try to thank me with those fat hairy lips of hers.  Ew.

At the risk of being ungrateful, I must say now that I don’t understand children’s toys.  I made the boys felt blocks and busy books.  Chad made them each a few interlocking train pieces out of a wood kit he found on the internet.  I really need to learn more about that.  It’s amazing how often he tells me something or comes home with something I needed and says, “Oh, I found it on the internet.”  That’s off topic though.  His parents, my grandparents, Aggie and Luke, and even Uncle Kyle all bought the children brightly colored (cute!) plastic toys.  I liked them.  I thought they’d be easy to wash when they got dirty, but then out came the batteries.  Every one of those things requires batteries.  Furthermore, they’re the noisiest piles of obnoxiousness I’ve ever had the misfortune to encounter.  All I want for Christmas is a battery thief.  I tried to take the silly batteries out after everyone left, but Chad thought I’d put them in to charge again and replaced them.  If he’s reading this, he should know that I hate those things with a passion he’s never seen before.  He doesn’t want to see it.  Trust me.

Ryder has been distant this past week.  He’s missed work twice and been late almost every other day.  To say that things are out of sync around here is an understatement.  I’ve been grateful for Iris Landry’s help around here.  Without it, I would have had to let the plants in the greenhouse go.  If I have to choose between the farm expansion and my children, there is no choice.  Period.  However, if Ryder finds himself unable to work, I can try to find another college student that is interested in our life here, or maybe that British guy, Nigel.  He’s been working on Judith’s house, but that can’t last forever.  Meanwhile, I find it odd.  Ryder has been off school for two weeks and has another four before he goes back again.  You’d think he’d have more time than usual for us and yet he’s been here less than during classes.  I’m afraid I need to sit him down and talk to him.

Chad just came in to tell me that Ryder asked if he and Chelsea could come out to talk with us.  I have a sinking feeling that she’s the reason for his absence and that I’m going to hear they’ve gotten engaged or something.  I thought he made sense after Thanksgiving, he’s acted like his old self again, but now this.  I can’t think what else it could be.

I hear my little lads.  I guess I need to quit writing about a whole lot of nothing and enjoy even more somethings with my guys.  I think Liam is going to walk any day.  He zips around furniture faster than I can catch him before he crashes to the floor.  Thankfully he doesn’t seem to care.  I asked Chad about the potential for permanent brain damage from all the knocks on the furniture and floors, but Chad says that it just knocks sense into them and without it, they’d be idiots.  I’m going with his interpretation for my sanity, but I confess, it doesn’t make sense to me.

So many of her entries these days were filled with productivity lists, the boys’ milestones, and plans for the future.  The little tidbits that read more like her mother’s average journal entries were his favorites.  Oh, Kari had written her share of laundry lists of factoids to reference at a later date, but the sheer size of their enterprise now demanded much more of her journaling time.

The entry about Ryder concerned him as well.  They’d been so relieved to hear about the potential scholarship and Ryder’s eagerness to avoid a serious relationship so early in his educational career.  When Willow shared her opinion of his teaching skills, the young man had seemed eager to talk to his college counselors about it.  Ryder wasn’t the kind of guy who called to make an appointment for a discussion.  Something was up and Chad was sure he’d be announcing his intention to move to Chicago to be with Chelsea at the very least.  An engagement seemed equally likely.

Willow peeked her head around the door.  “I’ve got coffee, chili, cornbread, and ice cream sundaes downstairs.  They’ll be here in an hour, so if you want a shower…”

“Hey, c’mere.”

The thick braid whacked his face as she bent to kiss him.  “That’s what you get for lounging around in bed reading rather than controlling your children.”

“They’re in bed.”

“They are now!  I just put them there.”  She swung her braid at him again.

“See, I know when to get up and when to stay in bed.”

Grabbing the blankets, Willow jerked the covers from him and carried them out the door.  “If you want to stay warm, come get them.”

Twenty minutes later, freshly shaven and starving, Chad arrived in the kitchen to find his lunch sitting on the table and Willow pounding bread with a vengeance.  “Does that make you feel better?”

“No, but it’ll make the bread taste better.”

“He’s a man, Willow.”

She sent a withering look in Chad’s direction.  “He’s acting like a child.”

“We don’t even know what he wants.”

“He’s bringing her with him.  To talk.  It must be serious, Chad.  You don’t bring a girlfriend with you to tell your boss that you’re quitting or you made the deacon’s list.”

“Dean’s”

“Whatever.”

“How modern you’re getting.”  Chad’s teasing didn’t make her smile as it usually did.  “You’re covered in flour, Lass.”

“Good thing I’ve got on an apron then, isn’t it?”

“Your nose doesn’t have one.”

“Well then, you know what to get me for Valentine’s Day.”

Laughing, he carried his empty bowl to the sink, wondering as he went, how he’d finished so quickly.  “I must have been hungry, and don’t tempt me.  I wonder if Mom knows someone who sews.”

“She does.  Me.  So there you have it.”

A knock on the door sent Willow’s eyes flying to the clock.  “They’re half an hour early!”  She stared down at the dough on her hands.  “Well, they’ll just have to talk in here.  I’m not going to waste good dough just because they can’t come on time.”

Chad led the couple into the kitchen and pulled out chairs.  “Willow is in the middle of bread and you don’t come between a Finley woman and her work.”

“We’re early.  We sat around Chelsea’s house until we couldn’t take it anymore.  Sorry.”

“Get them sundaes, Chad.”

Chelsea shook her head.  “No thanks.  I—no thanks.”

One of the most awkward silences of Chad’s life nearly smothered them in the room until Willow’s fist slammed into the pile of dough and she said, “You said you had something to talk to us about?”

“Lass…” his low warning tone wasn’t lost on her, but she ignored it and he knew it.

“We have a problem.  Possibly a big one.”

“Possibly?  You’re kidding me, right?  Possibly?”  Chelsea’s voice was pitched high enough to earn her a spot as a soprano in opera.

“Chels…”

“Are you quitting Ryder?”  Willow’s voice held an edge that Chad recognized.  It was her, ‘you’d better not say what I don’t want to hear or I’m going to blast you’ tone.

“No!  I—No!”

“Just tell her, Ryder.  My parents will be home in two hours!”

With a face as miserable as any Chad had ever seen, Ryder looked up at him, ignoring Willow’s questioning gaze, and said, “Chelsea is pregnant.”

“Oh, Ryder.”  Without another word, Willow dusted her palms off onto the dough and went to put her arms around Chelsea.  “Are you ok?”

“I am not ok!  Why the h—“

“Chels!”

“Why on earth would you think I’m ok?  I’m pregnant!  I’m seventeen, pregnant, and my life is ruined.”

“That’s a lie.”  Chad winced at the words as Willow spoke them.  Leave it to Willow not to let someone exaggerate the truth at a time like that.

“What!”

“Your life isn’t ruined.  Put on hold, adjusted, made more difficult, yes.  Ruined no.  Lying to yourself like that just perpetuates the negativity.”

“What do you know about it?  You’re infertile!”  Chelsea’s tears flowed freely now.

“Chelsea, really!  You’re going to rub it in to make yourself feel better about being worse?”  Ryder sounded disgusted.

Before things went downhill any further, Chad decided to find out why the not-so-happy couple were telling them this news.  “What did your parents say to it?”

“We haven’t told them yet.  They get in town this afternoon.”

“So why are you here?”  Willow beat him to the question.  “I would think telling them first—“

“We—“

Chelsea threw Ryder a disgusted look.  “My mom is really into all the pro-life stuff.  She’s not going to sign for an abortion, and I’m not sure I’m ready to deal with that anyway.  So, we’re going to give the baby up for adoption, and Ryder wants you to consider it.”

“Adoption?”  Willow’s voice sounded strangled.

With an arm around his wife’s shoulder, Chad squeezed it to tell her to let him handle the discussion.  Fortunately, she picked up on his cue before she blasted the girl for even considering an abortion.  “Chelsea, how do you feel about asking us to consider adoption?”

The girl began weeping.  “I don’t know.  I just want it over with.  Ryder thought that if we had a plan in place before we talked to my parents, they wouldn’t freak out as badly.”

“I don’t think you should be asking us to do this unless you’re sure.  What if your parents are more understanding than you anticipate?  What if they want you to keep the baby?”

“No!”  She looked embarrassed, but the resolute expression on her face couldn’t be ignored.  “Sorry, but no.  I’m not ready to be a mom.  I don’t want a baby.  I don’t think I want an abortion either and a pregnancy is going to be gross and disgusting, but the baby has to go.”

“We’ll do it.”

Willow’s voice was quiet, but firm.  Chad stared at her, stunned, and then beckoned her.  “Will you excuse us?  We need to talk about this privately for a minute.”

They grabbed their coats and walked silently to the barn.  Just inside the door, Chad slammed his fist against the wall.  “Will you tell me exactly what you’re doing?”

“I’m agreeing to adopt that child.”

“Without us discussing it.”  His tone should have warned her that she’d crossed one of those lines she never understood, but it didn’t.

“What is there to discuss?  She doesn’t want the baby, Ryder would get to see his child if it came to live with us, and she’s mentioned abortion twice.  If she keeps talking, she’s going to desensitize herself to the idea and that baby is going to die.”

“Not without her mother’s consent.”

Closing her eyes, Willow took a deep breath and then nearly leveled him with a disgusted glare.  “You really think I’m stupid, don’t you?  Weren’t you the one telling me just a week ago about how the school nurse took a girl off campus to get an abortion in the city?  Weren’t you the one telling me that the girl’s parents filed a complaint but there was nothing you could do about it because the law states that while under the school’s care the school can do as they see best regarding their students’ medical care?  Didn’t you show me the form parents sign when they enroll the students that gives those same school officials the right to make that choice?”

“That baby would be born sixteen—“

“Seventeen I think”

He nodded, “Seventeen months after the boys.  That’s cutting it close age wise.”

“Are you saying you are unwilling to adopt this child?”  The shock in her face was almost his undoing.

“No, Lass.  I’m saying you can’t just agree to adopt a child without us discussing it.  It’s a bit sudden for me just to agree willy nilly.”

She chewed her lip for a moment and then nodded.  “You’re right.  How about this.  We tell them it’s something we’ll consider.  That way, they can tell Chelsea’s parents that they have a couple considering adoption, which is the truth, but doesn’t leave us committed.”

“Deal.”

As the barn swung open, Chad’s voice murmured low in her ear, “Have you thought about names yet?”

“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?”

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.”