By ten-thirty on Monday morning, Willow turned off her phone.  Bill had called first at nine o’clock the minute he entered his office.  Darla Varney was next at nine forty-five followed by Chuck at ten sixteen on the dot.  If one more person called, she thought she’d go crazy.
Green beans screamed for canning.  She’d foolishly given Jill the first fruits of the crop to give her time between batches but now she had to decide whether she would can them at all.  “What a way to spend a birthday,” she muttered enjoying her moment of self-pity.  If anyone deserved a good pity party, Willow was sure she did.
However, a winter without green beans seemed intolerable.  Peas weren’t exactly her favorite vegetable.  She should have thought of that before she just canned them because they always had.  That hadn’t been very smart.  Next year she’d skip the peas.  She also needed those rows if she was going to have enough carrots, onions, and turnips for winter.  She’d can.  Maybe it’d take her mind off the second worst day of her life.
The clothes needed to go on the line first.  If she wanted crisp sheets for her bed tonight, they had to dry and preferably, before they turned sour in the washer.  Laundry first, then canning.
She could do this.  How did mother ever manage to keep it all straight?  Had she known about the informal fraternal order of new wives who thought the same thing after a few weeks or months of homemaking, she would have felt a lot better.
Twenty-four quarts of green beans later, Willow cleaned her canning mess and felt a sense of satisfaction to know her food for winter was over half secured.  She glanced at her watch and smiled.  She had time to put her steak on the grill before she had to milk Wilhelmina.
However, as she placed the steaks on the grill, the wind snapped her sheets behind her.  “Ugh,” she groaned to herself.  “Smokey clothes aren’t my idea of a good idea.”
She left the steaks on the grill and hurried inside for her laundry basket.  While she hated hanging clothes, she loved taking them in.  She and Kari had split the task each enjoying their favorite part.  Even now, as she snapped the sheets expertly and folded them carefully into the basket, Willow remembered friendly debates on the merits and demerits of their respective jobs.

***
Chad whizzed down the highway, peeled onto her driveway, and sent a cloud of dust around his truck as he ground to a stop.  His truck door slammed behind him and he jogged around the corner of the house calling her name.  She whirled at the clothesline as she heard him.
“Chad!  What’s wrong?”
“Your phone.  That’s what’s wrong.  I’ve been calling all day!  I was worried sick but we’ve had trouble at the lake.  Three drunk and disorderlies and that Kallikak kid did another thorough TP job on the-” He stopped midstream.  “Why haven’t you answered your phone?”
Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed the clothespins holding a pair of jeans from the line and looked around for where to put them.  When he saw her stuff pins in a large pocket on the front of her apron, he clipped them back to the clothesline.  There was no way he was stuffing his hands in her pocket like that.
“I got half a dozen calls before ten-thirty this morning and frankly, it hurt so I turned the phone off.”
“It hurt?”  He finished the row, one pair of jeans at a time while Willow worked the next row of tops and skirts.
At the end of her row, Willow went back collecting the clothespins he’d left behind and Chad started on the next row of socks.  “People who have never called before had to call because it was my birthday and my mom died.”
Chad considered the statement, took note of the edge of bitterness, and continued to roll sock pairs and drop them in the basket.  Before he could respond to her, he reached an oblong padded bandage of sorts and wondered if they were some kind of freezer wraps for headaches.  His mother had made microwave rice things for Christmas gifts one year.  That’d be an awful lot of headaches. “What are all these?”
Willow glanced up from folding kitchen towels.  “Oh, those are pads.”  Noticing he waited for clarification, she shrugged.  “You know, for my monthly.”
Red stole up his neck as he dropped pad and clothespins both in the basket and mumbled something about getting a drink.  Willow watched confused.  Even her mother hadn’t been embarrassed about bodily functions.  Sure, she didn’t like to talk about it but it wasn’t anything to find embarrassing!
She finished taking in the laundry and found Chad in the kitchen.  “You ok?”
Chad choked on his water wondering how his concern for her had become her concern for him.  “Fine. Fine.”
“Can you go put this up on my bed for me?  I’ll go out and fire up the grill.  I have two steaks- Tessie was supposed to get one but I can give her left over chicken pie.”
At the top of the stairs, Chad heard her wail and then speak sharply to the pup.  “Wrong Truffle!  Wrong.”
In the yard, he saw the puppy delightedly gnawing on steaks that were now covered with a lovely layer of dirt, grass, and canine saliva.  “Um- plan B for dinner?”
“There isn’t enough left over chicken pie-  I guess I’ll make sandwiches.”
“How about pizza,” Chad suggested kicking himself.  “I could call Antonios.”
“I’ve never had pizza-”
Chad’s phone was open before she finished.  There was something seriously wrong with an American who had never eaten pizza.  She listened for a moment as he haggled for a pizza delivered to the end of her driveway and then carried the basket upstairs herself.
***
“You said something earlier that I don’t understand.”
Willow wiped her lips and met Chad’s eyes.  “What?”
“You said all the calls on your birthday made the day even worse.  I would have thought-”
After a drink of her milk, Willow took a deep breath and prayed as she did that she wouldn’t offend Chad.  He’d been one of the callers and as frustrating as the day had been, she didn’t want to hurt him.  “I don’t want to appear ungrateful.  I do appreciate the thoughts and concern.”
“But-”
“But it makes life feel even more empty when everyone is trying to crowd out loss by their presence when they wouldn’t be so ever-present if the loss wasn’t there.”  She paused, her eyes beseeching him to understand.  “You would have called- if we were friends before Mother died- you would have called to say Happy Birthday.  Bill too and maybe Chuck.  I don’t know about Lee, Alexa, and Mrs. Varney.  I checked my messages when I took the basket upstairs.  Almost everyone from the Bible Study called.  My lawyer called!”
“It’s bad that people want you to know that they’re thinking about you, praying for you, and are sorry you don’t have the one person you want most on this day to celebrate it with you?”
She knew he wouldn’t understand.  It sounded crazy to herself but reasonable or not, the feeling was real.  She was the prayer need of the month.  Next year, most of those people wouldn’t remember it was her birthday much less bother to call.  She knew this instinctively.
“It isn’t bad.  I do appreciate it.  I really do.  It just has an added pang to realize that I am in a position to need this kind of support.  I don’t garner it because of love for me but because of pity for my situation.  It may seem pathetic to you but it’s how I feel.”
She jumped to her feet, fighting the tears that seemed to come more easily the longer time passed.  She hated it.  She wanted them gone.  “I want to swing.  Come push me.”
Chad didn’t know how to respond to her.  She didn’t make sense and yet somehow he understood all at the same time.  Her solution to hating feeling alone was to turn off the phone and be truly alone.  Now she was wiping all traces of her pain by swinging.  How could this possibly help?
They walked back to the house, hand in hand talking about the work ahead of her and the help she’d need.  As they walked, Willow noticed an air of confidence as he led her along the barn, around the corner, and to the house with no moonlight to help.  “You aren’t bothered by no moon.”
“Why should I be?”
She told him about her moonlit walk with Bill and how nervous he’d been even when holding her hand.  Unease settled around Chad’s heart.  As they walked, he remembered several times when he’d comforted her, held her hand, given her a hug, patted her back.  He’d seen her hug Bill and even Chuck.
This wasn’t good.  Did she have any clue about the mixed signals she must be sending?  He didn’t think she did.  Willow wasn’t a flirt; she wasn’t careless with her behavior.
On the porch swing once more, Chad knew he had to say something.  “Willow?”
“Hmm?”  Her voice sounded lazy and happy.
“I don’t know how to say this and I wouldn’t do it today but I think it’s kind of important.”
She sat up, alert, drew her knees to her chest, backed herself into the corner of the porch swing, and nodded.  “Go ahead.”
“Well, I have just realized how warm you are with everyone.  It’s a beautiful thing, really.  You aren’t effusive by any means but you are affectionate.”
“That sounds like a problem-” she began.
“Well it isn’t a problem, exactly, but since the people you know best are men…”  He wasn’t sure how to continue.  The last thing he wanted to do was give her the impression that he misunderstood her ease and friendliness.
“I don’t understand.  I show the same kind of affection that I showed my mother except-”
“Except what?”  Chad incorrectly assumed she’d begun to understand.
“Well, I don’t think I’d kiss any of you guys.  Actually, I got a little irked at Bill when he tried to kiss me the other day.  Somehow it’s not the same kissing a man as it is kissing your mom.”  She paused.  “I think.”
“You think?”
“I’ve never kissed anyone but my mom but somehow kissing men seems to be more intimate than friendly.  Don’t you think?”
Yes he did think.  He didn’t want to think, but he did think.  “Yes. I agree.  But Willow-” Oh this was difficult.  “Most guys would assume something a little more than just friendliness holding hands and even a woman.”
She didn’t respond for some time.  “Did you think I was-
“No!  I understood you and I’m a friend but I know that Bill is interested and he might misunderstand.  I know Chuck would.  Chuck misunderstands the meaning of thank you.”
“Chuck is misunderstood,” she countered hotly.
“Oooohh hoo hoo.  Gets defensive!  What a triangle we have building!”
She stared at him blankly.  Obviously, the meaning was lost on her.  “Umm you lost me.”
“Well Bill’s smitten with you, you’re leaning toward Chuck who is also falling hard and fast…”
She stood quickly.  “Woah!  I don’t know what you’re talking about.  One minute I have three good friends who happen to be men and the next you’re talking about Tom Dooley.”
Silence hung for a moment and then they both erupted in laughter.  Willow gained control first.  “So what you’re saying is that holding hands with women is fine but not smart with men- same with hugs?”
His throat went dry.  “Um, well honestly, most women don’t hold hands either.  Everyone hugs briefly at times.  It’s like the modern ‘holy kiss’ you know?”
“Holy kiss?”
“‘Greet one another with a holy kiss; all the churches of Christ greet you. Romans sixteen sixteen.’”
“So instead of a kiss like the Italians of Rome, we hug?”
Chad shrugged.  “Something like that,” he said, standing too.  He felt awkward sitting while she towered over him.
“That’s ridiculous! I can’t believe I’m hearing this!”
He felt awful.  “I’m not trying to scold you!  I just didn’t want you surprised when someone misunderstands.”
“You’d think that people wouldn’t make assumptions about one another.  I’d never assume any kind of special attention just because someone showed affection!  People need it!  I’m supposed to just shrivel away here without any human contact because God saw fit to remove all I ever had?  That’s madness!”
“Oh it’s not that bad!  I wasn’t accusing and no one expects-”
Her voice grew cold.  “I think Mother had the right idea.  I think she knew how mixed up people were.  I bet people would have accused her of misleading that guy-” Willow choked back a sob.
The conversation died.  Chad gave her a quick hug, feeling even more awkward and awful after their conversation, and drove toward home.  As he turned onto the highway, his phone rang.
“It’s me.”
“Hey Willow.  You ok?”
“I think I get it now.  I’m really glad you told me.  I don’t want to leave anyone with the impression that I-” She paused.  “I mean it’s kind of embarrassing but it’d be worse if I-”
“Goodnight Willow.  I’ll come out Friday afternoon when they drop off the sheep.”
She didn’t hang up the phone.  He waited for her to disconnect- she’d never hesitated before…  “Chad?”
“Yes.”
“Are we ok?”
“We’re just fine Willow.  We’re just fine.”
“Night.”
He punched the off button on his phone.  He had loved how untainted she was by what the naysayers called the “real world.”  He was sick of jaded people in the so-called real world.  This was proof positive that there was something to the argument.   To be as sheltered as Willow was, in this world, and then tossed into it cold-turkey…
He sighed.  That was the difference.  People who were over protective and sheltered their children didn’t usually die before their kids had a chance to spread their wings.