Reluctant Reunion

by Ruth J. Hartman

  As my fingers closed around the bucket handle, my arm was dragged down to my side. Good grief. I’d forgotten how heavy those things were. How had I lugged them around as a kid? Guess trying out for commercials and hauling boxes of shoes hadn’t taxed my muscles very much the last few years.

  “Let’s start over there, at the back.” Ernesto had a bucket in each hand, swinging them easily at his sides. The muscles on his back bulged through his faded denim shirt. I followed him. Was he part owner? Or did my dad pay him as an employee?

  But that was none of my business, was it? I was the interloper here. I had no rights. No reason to ask nosy questions.

  Speaking of nosy… Something moist and wet slimed the side of my arm. Blech. A large male alpaca had hung his head over the edge of his stall, tongue sticking out, trying to reach the food in my bucket. I stepped back, grimacing at the wet spot glistening on my bare skin. Alpaca spit. Lovely.

  I watched Ernesto for a few seconds as he spread the food in the pen’s trough. Then, I turned to do the same. He was tall enough, he simply leaned over the fence, stretched his arms, and poured from the buckets directly to the trough. I eyed the pen in front of me. Uh oh. No way I could manage that.

  “I’m thinking you’ll have to do it from inside.”

  But I didn’t want to go in there. I stood rigid. There must be some other way.

  He set down his empty bucket and smiled. “It’s okay. They won’t bite. Much.”

  I gave him a look and he laughed.

  After he unlatched the gate, he walked into the enclosure and motioned me to follow. Warm bodies swarmed me, a couple nearly knocking me over. “Hey, watch it.”

  “They’re just hungry. Not meaning to hurt you.”

  I glanced up to find Ernesto studying me. Did he think it was odd that I wouldn’t be more comfortable doing this job since I’d grown up there?

  With his hand gently on my back, he coaxed me toward the trough. “Just pour it out. Keep it even as much as you can across the large trough, then put some in the lower one over there.”

  It was then I noticed several half-grown alpacas milling about in front of a miniature trough.

  Farther away in one corner, tiny alpacas bumped against older ones’ legs. Oh right, they wouldn’t be ready for food yet. Still getting milk from their moms.

  After I poured the food into the trough with only a small amount landing on the floor, I placed the empty bucket down with a clank. I could see why the man’s muscles were so pronounced. Hefting full pails of food several times was like lifting weights. “So, Ernesto, how long have you worked here?”

  He opened his mouth to speak. The sound of footsteps stopped him.

  Dad walked in. He patted the other man on the shoulder and smiled. “He’s been helping me out for a while now. I’m doing my best to get him to buy the whole thing from me.”

  Smile faltering, Ernesto glanced down at his hands. “I’m still… considering the offer.”

  Something in my father’s expression dimmed. He blinked several times as he studied his friend. His throat moved as he swallowed hard. Had he assumed it was closer to a done deal? That Ernesto would buy the place, taking the burden, physically and emotionally, from my ill father? What would Dad do if Ernesto decided not to?

  There probably weren’t tons of prospective buyers for something as unusual as an alpaca farm. It would have to be someone who loved the animals and didn’t mind hard physical labor. I’d been away a long time but did remember that certain things about their care were unique to them as opposed to other farm livestock. I hurried over to grab another full bucket of food, wanting to give my dad and his friend a moment of privacy while they discussed it. The subject had nothing to do with me.

  Chapter Eight

  My shirt stuck to my back, soggy with sweat. So glad the workday was almost over. I’d worked hard in New York in the busy shoe store and fighting for any little acting job. But this… every muscle screamed for relief. All I wanted was a shower, a drink, and bed. A sigh forced its way up from my chest and out. There were still some duties to finish before I could get to that.

  I couldn’t believe I’d been back on the farm for two weeks. New York seemed far away, like maybe it had never happened. Things I’d gotten used to while living there would bug me now. Loud traffic. Crowds of rude people at every turn. High prices. Competition for acting roles. And then, of course, there was Jerrod. Why hadn’t I known sooner about his affair? Shouldn’t I have seen signs that our relationship wasn’t what it should have been?

  Or maybe… I didn’t want to see. Because dealing with it sure was harder than ignoring it.

  Nickie, my niece, waved on her way by, and I smiled. Still weird to think of myself as someone’s aunt. Even though my brother had died, at least he’d left a legacy in his daughter. Guess I’d have a chance to get to know her since we were both living in the same house.

  “Have to do homework now,” she called over her shoulder.

  I shook my head. Homework. High school seemed eons ago. It was hard to believe all I’d been through in just a few years.

  No. Compared to what Dad has going on, you haven’t been through much.

  Dad, exhausted and appearing especially ragged, had already gone into the house. I’d told him I’d finish up. The expression of gratitude he’d given me was worth staying out for a little bit longer even though I longed to leave too.

  As the sun hovered over the hill to the west, the alpacas made their evening noises, talking to each other as they readied their babies for bed. Almost as if giving final instructions. Don’t forget to brush your teeth. I grinned. How would an alpaca hold a toothbrush, anyway?

  The babies.

  Even I had to admit, they were cute. So fluffy. They resembled adorable stuffed toys. Impossibly huge eyes that seemed never to blink. Always curious. Two of the smallest ones, Ollie and Millie, came trotting toward me, their tiny bodies quivering with delight when I sat down on the ground to be more at their level. Alpacas didn’t always like to be petted but would sometimes let a person they trust scratch them beneath the chin. Dad had told me it was important to make the little ones feel safe. And that doing this at the end of the day helped calm them for sleep.

  So, I obliged. I had to say, though, it wasn’t as unpleasant as some of the alpaca jobs I had to perform. At least it wasn’t physically taxing, like cleaning stalls or hauling big buckets of food. Or as smelly.

  I sat still and waited. Ollie, braver, came first. He butted his forehead against my palm, making it clear he wanted attention. I scratched his chin. His little front foot scuffed in the dirt, showing his pleasure while his miniscule tail swished side to side. My fingers ached from the day’s chores, but I kept scratching him. My mind kept straying to the house. The cool shower and comfortable bed. Soon…

  Millie sidled closer, watching. She always waited her turn. Not Ollie, though. He waited for nothing and no one. Barreled forward. Took no prisoners. Show him attention this instant or else.

  I smiled. Couldn’t help it. They were adorable. Even as hardened as I’d been toward the animals since I’d been a kid, this was the one aspect that was difficult to ignore.

  I jerked as if startled awake from some weird dream. Wait, what was I doing? Thinking about them in positive terms. Letting them get under my skin. Surely this infatuation would pass. Right? Bonding with them was not going to happen. Was. Not. I’d agreed to help work the farm, care for the alpacas, but that was it. Dad might love them to pieces and fawn over them, but I wouldn’t.

  Millie chose that moment to overcome her shyness. She headbutted Ollie away from me, edging toward my hand.

  I chuckled. “Well, look at you. Got a little backbone there?”

  Millie pulled her head away from my fingertips and stared at me. How unnerving. Like she knew what I’d said. With her big eyes focused right on mine, she seemed to delve into my thoughts.

  Stop that!

  I didn’t shout it out loud because that might
have scared her. But good grief. And she still hadn’t taken her attention off me. So, I continued to sit there. Hands lowered to my lap. Not moving. Barely breathing. What was Millie thinking about as she studied me? I guess I must have been interesting to her. Maybe she couldn’t believe how disheveled I was. Pieces of my hair having escaped from my ponytail. My clothes dirty and damp. My face sweaty.

  “And just look at you, Millie. As fresh and fluffy as you were at six a.m. this morning.”

  She tilted her head but kept her gaze on me. Slowly, she lowered her eyelids in a blink.

  “Ha, I knew you’d have to do that sometime.” I glanced behind me, hoping Dad hadn’t come back out to hear me. He’d think I’d lost it.

  No, he’d be pleased as punch I was bonding with his babies.

  Bonding? No.

  I scooted away, but only a few inches. The fence was pressed into my back. Ollie gave my shoulder a final nudge then trotted off to pester his mom. Millie stayed. With her head lowered, she edged closer. What was she doing?

  My breathing slowed as I sat still, moving nothing but my eyes while I watched her. After a few seconds, she shifted again. Now she was so close I could feel her warm breath on my cheek. I wasn’t afraid she’d spit at me. Millie was the gentlest of the herd. I hadn’t seen her do that to anyone. Not even Ollie when he annoyed her.

  But something was going on. What did she want?

  She let out a tiny sigh and turned her head toward me. Steamy air from her nostrils traced the edge of my ear. I didn’t budge, curious what she’d do next. Soft fur brushed my cheek as Millie pressed her chin against my left shoulder, her chest snuggled to my arm.

  I blinked. Did she want… a hug?

  With another glance behind me to make sure we were alone, I wrapped my arms around her, unsure how tight I should hold her. Didn’t want to freak her out. If she started bawling, everyone else would too. I’d have an alpaca apocalypse on my hands. And Dad would definitely come back out for that.

  Nope. Easy and slow.

  Then it hit me. I’m snuggling an alpaca. The nemesis of my childhood. One of my reasons for leaving the farm in the first place. Who would have thought my life would turn out this way? One minute I’m in a sheep costume on a stage in New York, the next, actually hugging a sheep’s little cousin. But what else could I do? If I shoved her away or stood suddenly, she might get upset. I let out a slow breath, trying not to overreact.

  The longer Millie stayed, the more I relaxed. It wasn’t so bad, really. Maybe a tiny bit pleasant.

  I shook my head. Not bad? Pleasant? What have I done?

  Chapter Nine

  It was halfway through the next morning. We started so early, ten a.m. seemed like it should be supper time. While my dad took a much-needed break and sat for a while beneath a shade tree to rest, I opted for the house. I’d forgotten how hot it could get outside in Indiana. A cold drink was the only thing on my mind. As I walked up the steps to the house, there was music. A radio. Then singing. Laurie. I had to admit, the woman had a lovely voice. With my hand an inch away from opening the door to the kitchen, I froze. Should I wait to go in until Laurie had left to do something else?

  I swallowed. Or tried to. My mouth was so dry I couldn’t work up enough spit to swallow. That settled it. Get a drink. Maybe I could dart in, grab something, and head back outside without having to converse much with her.

  Once inside the cool of the kitchen, I sighed. It was amazing how much better it felt than the sun’s harsh, hot rays. I eyed the chairs at the kitchen table. Sitting down would be great, but then I’d have to talk to—

  Right then, Laurie turned. “Oh, hi.” She smiled. “Can I get you something to drink? Have a seat, and I’ll get it.”

  Mind reader? Or did I appear as parched and overheated as I felt? Now there wasn’t much choice. I’d have to stay. “Thanks.” I took the chair closest to the door in case I’d have to bolt from the room when conversation got too uncomfortable. The décor was the same as Mom had left it. Exactly the same. Had Laurie wanted to change it? Maybe Dad hadn’t wanted her to, had thought it too painful, as if trying to somehow erase his wife’s lasting presence.

  When I’d first come home, seeing my mother’s favorite things still in place had hit hard. Like a mallet to my gut. Now though, it wasn’t so bad. Instead, sadness was replaced with special memories. A couple of the alpaca figurines on a shelf by the window had even been gifts from me.

  A tall glass of lemonade appeared in front of me on the table. Ice cubes floated lazily to the top, as the warmth of the day caused moisture to cling to the outside. I sighed again and took a long pull. Perfect. When I replaced the glass on the table, I blinked. Apparently, I’d drained every last drop. Before I could head to the fridge for more, Laurie was there, pitcher in hand, refilling my drink.

  When Laurie sat down at the opposite side of the table, I bristled. But as quickly as the desire for the other woman to leave had entered my mind, guilt warred with irritation. Laurie had been the one to help out my father. She seemed so welcoming, so kind. Was that a comfort to Dad? Or was it a ruse to fool me into liking her? Accepting her? I wrapped my fingers around the cool, damp glass, glad for something to do with my fidgety hands.

  Laurie clasped hers on the table and gave a friendly smile. “I know we haven’t had much chance to get to know one another yet—”

  Yeah, because I’ve been avoiding you.

  “—but I’m glad we can, now.” She reached up and grabbed a lock of her hair, twirling it around her finger. Was she nervous? Because of me? “I’m sorry we haven’t met before now.”

  I slid a few inches down in my seat. More guilt. I bit my lip. “Yeah, I, um… Guess I should have come home more.”

  “No.” She waved a hand. “I didn’t mean…” She turned her head to the side. “I’m saying this all wrong.”

  Was it true, then? She was nervous talking to me? And here I’d done my best to avoid her. Maybe she’d been doing the same thing.

  “Kennedy.” She looked me straight in the eye now. “I have no doubt it’s hard for you kids to accept someone other than your mom in your dad’s life, even though you’re all grown and out of the house.”

  I shrugged. What could I add? That summed it up.

  “I want you to know… I love him so much. With my whole heart.”

  A few seconds ticked by as I studied the earnestness in her face, the way she leaned forward, her hands together as if she desperately wished me to believe her. Did I? Could I? “That’s good to know.” The words sounded unfinished, like I needed to add something. But I didn’t know what.

  “I’ve known your dad for a long time. Well, I guess known is the wrong word. We were acquaintances. Enough to wave or say hi. You know…”

  I nodded. Even though I didn’t want to have this conversation, it needed to happen. If I was going to stay there, work and live there, Laurie was part of that. I couldn’t deny that any longer.

  “Then one day, it was more than saying hello. Nothing was planned. We didn’t seek anything out. It just…” She lifted one shoulder up then down.

  Okay, time to ask some questions. I took a deep breath and let it out. “You’re right. It is hard. Mom and Dad loved each other very much.”

  “I know.”

  How would she know?

  “Your dad talks about your mom. All the time.”

  He does?

  “It’s not a secret how he felt about her. Still feels about her. I’m not trying to compete with her. Couldn’t. And I have no desire to. But please know, I do love him. He’s…” Her cheeks reddened. Embarrassed? So passionate about him she couldn’t get the words out?

  I ran my finger down my glass, not wanting to ask the next question. If I didn’t, though, it would burn inside of me, and I’d always wonder. “What about Dad’s illness? His MS?”

  Her mouth turned down at the corners. “It’s a tragedy, isn’t it?”

  “What I meant was, what will happen when it gets worse?�
�

  “You mean the progression of the illness? I have some reading material on it if you want to—”

  “No.” Now I was the one not saying it right. Frustrated, I blurted out, “When it gets really bad, will you leave?”

  “Leave?”

  “Go away and he’d be alone again?”

  She jerked as if I’d slapped her. “Of course not. Why would I… I love him. With everything in me. Nothing’s going to change that.” Her hands were gripped together now in earnest. Knuckles raised beneath her tan skin, like she needed something to hold onto, something to help her cling to as she tried to make me understand.

  “Sorry. I just… See, it’s difficult. I don’t really know you.”

  She relaxed her grip, placing her palms flat on the table. “That’s true. You don’t. And how would you know any different? If I were you, I’d probably be asking the same thing.”

  Honest. It struck me as an appropriate word to describe Laurie. Nothing she’d said so far felt insincere or false. I’d been through so much with Jerrod’s lies that Laurie’s straightforward words came as a comfort. A relief.

  “If it’s all right with you,” Laurie said, “maybe we could… try to be friends. I mean, I’d really like that. But if that’s hard for you, perhaps you could do it for your dad’s sake. What do you think?”

  I eyed her, watching to be sure she was still sincere. Still open and honest. My gut told me she was. I didn’t know if she and I would ever be close. Could ever be. But I was willing to try, for my dad. “Yeah. Let’s try that.”

  Her smile was beautiful, I had to admit. The fact that I’d put it there cracked the shell I’d wrapped around my heart, just a little. Too bad I hadn’t allowed that to happen a long time ago. Maybe I wouldn’t have felt so guarded, so unwilling to come home and visit. With Dad’s illness, had I blown it? Used up valuable time I could have spent with him while I held tightly to my anger, my hurt?

  When I went back outside, I looked for my dad. It was time. Time to have the discussion I’d put off for years. Now that I’d at least somewhat cleared the air with Laurie, maybe it would be easier to talk to him too.