Devil's Spring

by Aaron Lazar

  “Go, go, go!” Joey chanted.

  Caroline gurgled happily, but her word sounded more like “Goo.”

  She backed the cart out into the lot, checked for cars, and then rolled it up the hill into the grocery store. Under her breath, Tessie said, “Okay. We can do this.”

  Heads turned when she passed, and she knew why. The two kids were picture book adorable, like children out of a Norman Rockwell painting. Joey —with his dark, glossy hair—was simply cherubic. He had big brown eyes, a sweet little smile, and an impish expression that just melted your heart. And Caroline was an angel, pure and simple. Beautiful blond curls covered her head. Her wide eyes were deep, cobalt blue, fringed with golden lashes. A person could get lost in those eyes. Both children had perfect complexions and soft, downy skin. It was no wonder she was stopped every two seconds for neighbors and strangers alike to coo at the kids. She wondered if she’d ever get through the store today.

  Finally, she reached the pharmacy counter, where she picked up her husband Orville’s blood pressure medicines, and suffered through more gushing from the clerk behind the counter who actually came around to see the children close up, oohing and ahhing until Tessie thought she’d die from frustration.

  Orville needed three prescriptions now to keep the pressure in check. She worried about that. With all the stress of the farm’s finances these days, he had a hard time relaxing. His normal day was get up before dawn, work all day in the barn and fields, come in for lunch and dinner, and then head back out for final milking. He normally fell asleep on the couch before eight o’clock. The next day, the whole thing started over again, and that included weekends.

  Last month the insurance company had announced a mid-year rate hike. It had added another two hundred dollars to their monthly premium.

  How could they continue like this?

  She paid for the prescriptions with the money Portia had advanced her for babysitting, and moved on to the vegetable aisle. Her men loved their mashed potatoes, and she needed to stock up and buy another twenty pounds or so. Meat was never a problem on the farm, and her chickens provided good eggs. But it was still early in the season and the garden wasn’t ready yet to provide their vegetables. She’d have to buy lettuce and tomatoes and beets. And maybe a bag of nice big apples.

  Counting her money in her head, she figured she might even be able to afford a half-gallon of ice cream. She rolled the cart to the frozen food aisle and languished over the choices. So many wonderful flavors.

  A middle-aged woman with salt and pepper hair bent over the freezer section, running her fingers along the cartons. “It’s hard to choose, isn’t it?” She finally picked up a half-gallon of Moose Tracks.

  “Oh, it is,” Tessie laughed. “I still can’t decide.”

  Joey pointed to the chocolate chip. “Get dat one.”

  Both women laughed, and Tessie turned to smile at her little charge. “I guess he knows what he wants. Just like his daddy always did.”

  “You their grandma?” the lady asked, smiling at the children.

  Tessie beamed. “Joey’s my grandson. And little Caroline comes from my daughter-in-law’s family.”

  “They are absolutely beautiful,” the lady said, leaning in toward them.

  “Thank you.”

  “Seriously, these two are just perfection.” She straightened and reached into her pocket for a business card. “Listen. I’m always on the lookout for talent.”

  “Talent?” Tessie said, wrinkling her brow.

  “Well, I mean beautiful children, really. I’m a photographer for the Little Angels Modeling Agency. We could market your grandkids’ photos for tens of thousands to a baby food company.”

  “Tens of thousands?” Tessie repeated. “Honestly?”

  “Honestly. And I don’t just say that to everyone. Your darlings really are special.” She stuck out her hand. “Name’s Susie. Susie Cromwell.”

  Tessie shook her outstretched hand. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Tessie Hawke.”

  “You should discuss this with the children’s parents. See if they’d like to bring them in for a shoot.”

  Tessie put a protective arm around Joey. “Oh, I don’t think so. But thank you, anyway.” With a determined shove of the cart, she decided against the ice cream and rolled it away. “Come on, kids. We’ve got to get home and start cooking.” Tessie shoved the card in her jeans’ pocket and headed for the checkout aisle. “We don’t need money that badly,” she mumbled to herself, maneuvering the oversized cart into the skinny aisle.

  Just before the cashier announced her total, Joey’s face crumpled and he began to wail.

  “What is it, honey?” She leaned over and tried to figure out what had made the boy so upset, but couldn’t figure it out until an ungodly aroma rose from his pants. “Oh, no. Not now.”

  The cashier chuckled. “We have a changing station in the ladies’ room. Want me to watch your bags for you?”

  Tessie felt her resolve crack. “Um, no, thank you. I have both children here and it’ll be too hard in the restroom. But thanks. I’ll just change him in the car.”

  She paid the bill, relieved that she’d calculated correctly and actually got a few dollars back in change, and hurried out to the parking lot.

  Where had she parked?

  In all the confusion, she momentarily panicked. She’d begun to forget things like this more and more, and was terrified that she’d develop some awful memory disease. When she told her husband about it, he just chuckled and said it happened to everyone their age. She hoped so, but still worried.

  She began to roll the cart out of the store because people were backing up behind her. Oh good Lord. Where the heck is the car?

  Joey continued to wail, turning heads now for a different reason than before. Suddenly, she noticed the cart corral in the distance and headed for it, remembering now. When she spotted her car, she sighed with relief. She’d buckle Caroline into her seat, change Joey, then get him into his seat and get “the hell out of Dodge,” as her husband always said.

  “I can do this. I promised Boone I wasn’t too old for the job, and by golly, I’m going to prove it.”

  Five minutes later, she deposited the stinky diaper into a nearby garbage can, loaded up the car with her groceries, and headed home.

  Chapter 8

  Boone accepted a wet plate from Portia and began to dry it with a white terrycloth towel. Tonight they’d offered to take care of the supper dishes. The whole extended family had fallen into a good rhythm. Last night Grace and Anderson had done the dishes, and the night before Dirk had insisted on washing them himself. The family dynamics were going smoothly so far, and with everyone so busy, there was hardly time to think about the chance of discord. He knew with Grace in the mix, that was always a possibility. Well more like a probability. He and Grace had a bumpy history. He chuckled to himself, dried the plate and put it away, and then turned back to take another out of the rack. “So, how’d it go at the nursery today?”

  Portia wiped back a stray lock of copper-colored hair with her forearm and plunged her hands back into the soapy water. “It was good. I think I’ve got the office work down now, so I can focus more on the plants and displays.”

  “Good for you. You always were a fast learner, babe.”

  From the living room, Boone heard his son screech, followed by a soft reprimand from Daisy. “We must learn to share, honey.” The boy screamed, then whimpered, and then suddenly laughed. Boone recognized the sound that had elicited the joy—Dirk blowing raspberries on the boy’s tummy.

  “Do it again!” the child shrieked.

  Portia smiled over her shoulder. “That boy’s a real handful.”

  “I know.” Boone reached up to slide a platter onto the highest shelf. “My mom said he fell apart in the checkout line today at the grocery store.”

  Portia nodded. “I know. But it was because he had a dirty diaper.”

  “Right. I can only imagine the look on people’s faces when
they got a whiff of it. Joey can really clear a room. Fast.”

  His wife laughed. “True. But your mom’s really doing well handling him, isn’t she? I’m so amazed.”

  “I’m pretty proud of her myself.”

  “Hey, I was just wondering…is your father okay?”

  Boone paused. “What do you mean?”

  “He looked pale today. Kinda pasty.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. When I stopped to pick up the kids, he was leaning on the porch railing, all sweaty and white. I asked him if he was okay. He said he was fine, but he looked a little sheepish when he answered me.”

  “Whoa. Really?”

  “Yeah. I think you should talk to him.”

  “He’ll never admit it, even if there is something going on. I’d better talk to my mother. She’s the only one who can get him to the doctor.”

  “Good idea,” Portia said. “Why don’t you call her tonight? I’m worried about him.”

  “Will do. Right after we get our little man to bed.”

  Portia splashed some suds toward Boone. “Better hurry. ‘Cause I wanna get my big man to bed, too.”

  Boone snorted a laugh. “I love it when you’re bad.”

  Portia tossed him a sly smile. “What’s so bad about wanting to love my husband?”

  He grinned and wrapped his hands around her waist, kissing her neck. “Nothing at all.”

  He thought back to the time he’d proposed to her on the mountain overlooking both farms. She’d been so fragile only months before, after she’d escaped the hands of the villainous Murphy. She’d been afraid of everyone’s touch, wouldn’t let anyone near her except her little mutt, Cupcake, or her family dog, Boomer. But over time he’d played it real gentle, supported her, listened to her, and hadn’t pushed anything on her. And on one very momentous day, she’d accepted his hand in hers. Soon he’d been able to drape an arm over her shoulder. And on that mountaintop, she’d turned a real corner, kissing him until he didn’t think he could wait for the wedding night.

  But he had. Even though it had nearly killed him.

  He’d gone slowly, had treated her gently, and in time she’d evolved into his very passionate partner.

  “Okay. Dishes are all done,” she said, her eyes still gleaming with promises to come. “Ready to go up?”

  “More than you know,” he said, still holding her from behind. He kissed her soft earlobe and felt himself harden against her. “Oh, crud. Now I have to walk past your parents like this.”

  She giggled and turned, glancing down at him. “My goodness, Mr. Hawke. You’d best go fold some laundry or something.”

  He grinned. “That’ll do it. I’ll follow you up with a basket of laundry in front of my jeans, just in case.”

  She trilled a laugh and trotted toward the living room to scoop Joey into her arms. “See you up there, husband.”

  ∞∞∞

  Orville Hawke closed the door to the barn and wiped his hands on his overalls. The pain was worse tonight, and he wasn’t sure anymore that it was just heartburn.

  He leaned against the barn door, waiting to catch his breath.

  How can this be happening?

  His father had lived to the ripe old age of ninety-seven, and died slumped over the steering wheel on his tractor after cutting a hayfield. His mother--outliving his father by three months—had died peacefully in her sleep at the same age.

  What had he done wrong?

  He wiped the cold sweat from his brow and straightened. He couldn’t worry Tessie. She already had enough on her plate.

  And they sure as hell couldn’t afford the hospital bills. If Tessie ever discovered what he’d done, she’d probably up and leave him.

  Of course, there was always the life insurance. That would be enough to keep her afloat for years.

  He shuddered.

  Gosh. She’d kill me herself for thinking like that.

  He pulled himself together, took a deep breath, and headed inside.

  ∞∞∞

  Tessie sat in the armchair in the living room, her knitting untouched on her lap. “Good Lord. I’m even too tired to knit tonight.” She chuckled and reached over to answer the old-fashioned rotary phone they still kept on the side table. It had worked well enough for her parents, and still worked for her. There’d be none of these danged iPhones in her purse, not if she could help it.

  Her husband had succumbed to Boone’s pressure, however. He’d bought a little phone for his pocket so he could call her from the fields if anything went wrong. Sometimes he did break down way out on the lower forty, and she’d drive his truck up with his tools or a can of gas. She guessed it made sense.

  But she hated the whole technology thing. She still couldn’t figure out the television, what with all the buttons and modes and that darned “input” button. And it seemed every set in the house was different. How was a woman supposed to remember all that?

  She shivered. Oh God, is it because my memory’s failing? Am I the only one in the world who can’t figure out these darned machines?

  She placed the receiver against her ear. “Hawke Dairy Farm.”

  “May I please speak to Mr. Orville Hawke?”

  She frowned. It sounded like a sales call, and there was nothing on this earth she hated more than being interrupted in the peace of her evening by someone trying to sign her up for a new credit card or Internet service. “I’m sorry, he’s busy in the barns. May I help you?”

  “Um, yes, Ma’am, I’m calling from the billing office at the Green Mountain Savings and Loan. Is this Mrs. Hawke?”

  Her heart sank. “Yes, this is she.”

  “I’m sorry to have to make this call, Ma’am, but did you realize you’re two months behind on your truck payment?”

  She drew in a deep breath. “Yes, sir. And I’m sorry. It’s been a hard year all over the county. Last year’s drought really did us in.”

  “I realize that. I have that noted from last month’s call. But we really do need a payment—soon—or we’ll have to repossess.”

  “But my husband needs the truck for the farm business,” Tessie protested.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He didn’t sound sorry at all, Tessie thought.

  “Can you make a payment now, over the phone?”

  She cringed. There was only five hundred left on the credit card and she’d been saving that for emergencies. “I guess so.”

  The man on the phone brightened. “Excellent. How would you like to do this?”

  She rummaged in her purse, pulled out her wallet, and read him the Visa number.

  Chapter 9

  Tessie woke when a loud thump came from the kitchen.

  What was that?

  “Orville? Honey? You okay?”

  Silence.

  She pushed up from the armchair where she’d fallen asleep during one of their favorite programs and called again. “Honey? You okay?”

  A mumbled, “I’m fine,” came from the kitchen.

  Fully awake now, she hurried toward the kitchen, where she saw a foot protruding behind the kitchen table. “Orville!”

  Quickly, she bent over her prone husband. “Honey? What happened?”

  He groaned and rolled to his side, facing her. “I don’t know. Lost my balance there for a minute.”

  “Oh, sweetie.” She helped him sit up. “The doctor said this new medicine might make you dizzy. Do you think that was it?”

  He didn’t answer, but took a deep breath and pulled himself up to his knees with the table leg.

  “Do you think that was it?” she repeated.

  “Not sure,” he said. “Happened so fast.”

  “Let’s get you into the living room.” She started to take his arm, but he shook it off.

  “I’m fine, Tessie. Don’t make a gosh darned fuss over me, for Heaven’s sake.”

  “I’m calling your doctor, Orville.”

  “No. Please don’t. He’ll make us go into the ER and we can’t aff
ord that charge right now.”

  Tessie’s eyes welled with tears. “I know. But what if it’s something more than the medication? What if it’s serious?”

  “I’m fine. Let’s just wait a few days and see how I do.”

  Their younger son, Ned, came through the door just as Orville settled on the couch. Her husband’s warning glance told her not to say anything about the fall. Orville had his pride, and she knew that look well.

  “Hey, Mom, Dad. Got any dinner left?”

  Tessie hurried to his side. “Of course, darling. Did that calf finally come?”

  “She did. And she’s a fine specimen. You should see her markings, Dad. She looks just like Queenie.”

  Orville tossed his son a smile. “Good job, boy. Thanks for handling that by yourself.”

  “No problem.” Ned kicked off his boots, receiving a stern glance from his mother. He carried them out to the porch. “What’s to eat, Mom?”

  Tessie removed the roast beef from the fridge, followed by a container of mashed potatoes and some green beans. “Your favorites, honey.”

  He peered over her shoulder and grinned. “Awesome. I’m starving.”

  “You just go wash up and I’ll have this reheated in a few minutes. You want gravy?”

  “Are you kidding? When have I ever said no to gravy, Mom?”

  She laughed and gave him a playful shove. “Oh, Neddie. You always say that.”

  “Cause you always ask me if I want it,” he countered. “From now on, just add the gravy.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek.

  “Okay, son. Now go change. You really reek of cow manure.”

  “Back in a flash,” he shouted as he went up the stairs two at a time. She heard the shower start up and the bathroom door shut.