He knew the difference immediately and as tempting as it was to save face and money, Chad pointed to Willow’s jar. “I like that one best, and you know it.”
“I didn’t know it, but I do now.”
“Sometimes a guy has to taste it for himself. Night and day really…” Chad’s words drifted into nothingness as he watched Willow.
A new manila envelope and her coloring pencils sat next to her plate. As she ate, she carefully wrote “Boho Spring Line-3” in the center near the top and then shadowed the words making them bold. He could predict, having seen the process a dozen times over the past two years exactly what she’d do next. First, she’d draw brackets around the words connecting them at the corners, then she’d color in the area around the words… yep, there she went.
“Why do you do that?”
“Do what?” Her tongue stuck out of the corner of her mouth as she carefully connected the corners.
“Decorate the envelopes? Do they need to be decorated? With all you have to do and want to do, do envelopes for Boho need the designs on them?”
Willow looked up at him. “Does it bother you? We’ve always tried to make them more attractive…”
“I thought it was just a way to fill the time.”
Laughter rang throughout the kitchen. “Oh, Chad, surely you didn’t?”
“Well, yeah…” He felt foolish. Why else would they so painstakingly decorate something that was usually hidden in a box unseen?
“You’ve lived here for a year and half-lived here for nearly twice that, and you think we need things to fill our time?”
Even as she spoke, Chad realized most women would have been insulted. “Yeah—that was dumb. So why then?”
“Because it’s pretty… and relaxing.”
“But no one sees them. Why not make things to relax you that you can actually enjoy all the time?”
Willow shrugged looking around the kitchen curiously. “Where would I put them? I don’t have room for pictures on the walls or stuff on shelves. We make what we can use, and since we have to have the envelope anyway, we might as well make it pretty.”
The simple logic made him smile. Most of the things his mother or aunts made were proudly displayed somewhere or given as gifts. Willow was happy knowing she’d made it, and every time—all three or four of them—that she had to pull out that envelope of fabric swatches, design sketches, and pattern pieces, she’d smile at the beauty in a simple manila folder.
“You should buy white folders. They’d give you a cleaner palate.”
Willow nodded absently as she finished the title area of her envelope. Then, she replaced her pencils in the paper covered soup can probably left over from Kari’s first days in the house, and set them on the window ledge. The envelope tucked behind it and waited for another few minutes of rest and doodling. A thought occurred to her and she pulled the envelope back to her staring at the top curiously.
“No. The tops wouldn’t match. There’s a fine ridge of that manila colored paper at the top of the envelopes. White would stand out and look awkward. We’ve always colored over it but it wears away at that top fold.”
“I have two days off. What do you want to do?”
“Finish the barn. We need that done.”
“Well, we can’t finish in two days…”
“We can make some serious headway.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Chad began hesitantly. He knew Willow was still uncomfortable with changes, and with half the town and family warning him that at any moment she was going to erupt into hormonal tirades, he’d been walking on eggshells in anticipation.
“Oh?”
“Well I thought maybe Luke and Laird could help. We have that new guy in town too…”
“What new guy?”
“Charlie Janovick. He moved here from Brant’s Corners a couple of months ago. He kept getting calls for repairs on things or small remodeling jobs and decided to move. He’s actually living in Joe’s old place.”
“I’ve never seen him at church…”
“He came once, but he’s been driving back to Brant’s Corners. This winter he’ll make the switch I think.”
“So you want to hire these men to come help us build the barn?”
Chad nodded. “We need it done before it snows, and the way things are going, I’m not going to make it with just Ryder and Caleb stopping by every now and then.”
“Too bad they don’t do ‘barn raisings’ around here. We could invite the whole church to help.”
“So you don’t mind?”
“Why would I mind? We have to get it done, and I’m barely able to put up a sheet of plywood per day. I’ll never be able to help with the upper ones the way I’m going.”
Chad pulled out his phone as she talked. He called Luke and arranged for his cousin and ‘nephew’ to come immediately. Charlie couldn’t come before four but he promised to try to clear the next day to help as well. In ten minutes, Chad had lined up a full two days’ worth of work.
Willow stood as Chad made the first call and started to set enough yeast for a few loaves of bread. She pulled out her baking table and started measuring absently as she hummed something indiscernible quietly under her breath. While Chad made notes, calls, and finished his breakfast, he watched his wife mix dough, knead it, and plop it back into bowls to rise. To his surprise, she dropped a kiss on his forehead and went straight to the couch, a minute timer in hand.
Before he could rinse his plate and follow, she was asleep, beads of perspiration already forming on her upper lip and forehead. He couldn’t stand it. August was miserably hot in the Finley house, and while Chad had acclimated somewhat, he couldn’t handle seeing his wife trying to sleep through the stifling heat. From inside the library closet, he pulled an oscillating fan and dragged it into the living room. He plugged it in and then went to flip on the circuit breaker box.
The bread timer went off all too soon. Willow dragged herself from the couch and stared incoherently at the fan for a moment, until she realized what Chad had done. In the kitchen, a note was pinned to the cloth covering the bread bowls. “Lass, I’m out at the new barn with Luke and Laird. It’s too hot in here to bake in the stove. Please take it out to the summer kitchen. Oh, and stop by the barn. I’ve got something for you.”
As her hands plowed into the bread kneading it, dusting again with flower, kneading some more, Willow smiled remembering other summer mornings when her mother had come in to find Willow working on the week’s bread and saying, “Why don’t you just bake it in the barn today. The house is hot enough without making it one huge oven.”
By the time Willow finished with the bread, took it to the summer kitchen, and found the men at the barn, Portia was a nervous mess. The minute Willow set foot out the back door with her loaves of bread in their pans, the dog had tried in vain to lead her to the new barn. She circled, dashed away, and returned, whimpering for Willow to follow. However, Willow, being the uncooperative mistress, chose to ignore the dog in favor of ensuring there was enough defrosted ham, turkey, and baked bread to feed a crew of workers.
At the barn, the men, drenched in sweat, were putting the outside plywood on the walls. Willow called out immediately, Hey, need a hand?” She knew they’d say no, and of course, a chorus of ‘we’ve got its’ followed in quick succession.
Chad jumped from the pile of boards he’d been using as a riser and dragged her around the side of the barn. “You sleep ok?”
“Like a baby.”
“Well, you’re sleeping for three right now…”
Willow punched him softly and shook her head. “You said you had something for me?”
Her husband’s kiss surprised her. “Mom said she’d come and bring Aunt Libby if you want company.”
“Will they come next month when I have to do the canning instead?”
“What about the beans…”
“I’ll fall asleep on them. I know I will. I’d love the company, and I could use the he
lp, but I’d fall asleep and they’d have wasted a trip.”
Chad nodded. “I’ll see if mom will come for a week next month. What about Cheri? She has a month before school starts. Want me to see if she can come for a week next week and keep whatever you get started going if you drift off?”
The idea sounded promising. “Only if she wants to come. Don’t guilt her into it, Chad. Don’t do it.”
She glanced up at the barn. “You guys already have this side mostly done. How’d you get those big sheets up so high so fast?”
She watched for a while and then hurried to check on her bread. By the time it was done, the turkey and ham were nearly defrosted, fresh lettuce, tomatoes, and onions washed, sliced, and ready to go on sandwiches, and the last of her cheese decorated a very small saucer. “Time to make cheese, I guess,” she muttered absently, as she put it all on a tray and carried it to the house. Mint tea was next. She started a glass gallon jar of tea in the sun and then had idea. Checking the clock, Willow decided she had time before lunch and left Chad a note.
“Chaddie-my-laddie,
I decided to ride my bicycle to town and buy some lemons for lemonade, or maybe I’ll by the bottle of lemon juice Mother bought sometimes. It’ll save all that work you like to talk about. I thought about seeing if you needed anything before I go, but then I decided I’ll just call. You’d try to drive me if I talk to you first, and you’re busy. Just leaving a note in case you try to find me, and I’m not here.”
Joe watched as Willow Tesdall rode down the street, deposited her helmet in the front basket of her bicycle, and then parked it outside Fairbury Market. What was she doing riding her bicycle to town in this weather? The bank’s digital temperature reading said 98 degrees. Willow chugged a bottle of water and it made him smile. He’d expected a canteen or something. As she disappeared into the cool market, Joe pulled out his phone. He pointed meaningfully at Aiden Cox as the boy rode by, his helmet dangling from his wrist. Again.
“Hey man, don’t you have the day off?” Chad’s affirmative sent Joe into a lecture. “What are you doing letting your wife ride to town in this weather. The woman is beet red and beat. B-E-A-T.”
Chad’s groan of surprise made Joe backpedal. “Sorry Chad. I thought you knew…”
Unaware that Joe was inadvertently tattling on her, Willow picked out a large bottle of lemon juice, a pineapple, and for Chad, a package of the disgusting “American” cheese that he loved. He could ruin his sandwich with it if he wanted. It took half a dozen tries to find the only package the store sold that said “processed American Cheese” rather than “cheese product” or “cheese food.” Had Chad not showed her, she would never have known.
Just as she reached the cash registers, her phone rang. True to her personal dislike of public phone use, Willow turned it off and waited until she returned to her bicycle to return Chad’s call. “Guess you found my note.”
“Got a call from Joe. He saw you ride up and thought you looked beat. Why didn’t you tell me? I’d have taken—”
“That’s why. You guys are busy, and I just wanted to satisfy a whim.”
“A whim?” Chad’s voice sounded unimpressed.
“Yes. I wanted you guys to have lemonade. It just sounded so refreshing.”
“You’re something else, lass. Did you know that?” He hesitated but couldn’t resist. “Want me to run in and get you?”
“No. Work on the barn. Us chatting isn’t getting more walls up. I’ll be home in thirty minutes or so.”
Halfway home, Willow almost regretted the decision. Hot, sweat dripped from every pore in her body, and her water was gone. The next wave of sleepiness descended faster than she could ride. Her legs dropped wearily against the pedals barely pushing them down, and the resistance of the other leg being pushed up brought the speed of the bicycle to a slow crawl. She wobbled, before pulling the bicycle off the shoulder of the road and stared down the highway. She had another three miles to go—at least. Her eyes begged to close. The oppressive heat added further weariness, until she wheeled the bicycle across the highway, down the ditch, and leaned it against a tree a few dozen yards from the road.
Seconds later, she lay beneath the tree, her tote bag for a pillow, and slept.
Chapter 13 4
“She should have been home an hour ago even if she walked all the way home with a flat.”
“It’s awfully hot out there, Chad,” Luke agreed. “Why don’t you go find her? I’ll bet she’s got a flat and is walking really slowly.”
“I can’t figure out why she isn’t answering the cell.” Even as he said it, Chad realized why. She’d been in the store and had instinctively switched it off when he called. The desire to bang his head against the wall became strangely appealing.
“Go, Chad. We’ll make sandwiches and kick back on your porch.”
“The electric is on. Feel free to pull the fan out there to cool off.”
Without waiting for a reply, Chad rushed to the truck and whipped it around, sending dust clouds everywhere. Three times he drove back and forth between town and his house before he saw Willow’s bicycle leaning against a tree about a hundred yards from the road. He pulled into an outlet fifty feet away and turned off the truck. He didn’t see Willow, but as he reached the bicycle, he saw her lying on the ground half-hidden by summer grasses. Before Chad woke her, he carried her bicycle to the truck and stowed it in the bed.
Kneeling beside her, he brushed the tendrils away from her forehead and whispered, “Lass… let’s get you home.”
She barely stirred. A few more whispered words did little to rouse her. However, Willow did manage to wrap her arms around his leg, holding it close to her cheek. Stifling a laugh, Chad tried again, this time lifting her head onto his knee as he settled down next to her. “Willow? Come on now, you’re going to be eaten by bugs. Let’s get you home.”
Her eyes blinked uncomprehendingly at him several times. “Chad? Is everything ok?”
“Well, now that I found you—”
“I was lost?”
He nodded. “But now you’re found.”
“I’m not blind though—I see just fine.” She sat up and looked around her somewhat dazed. “What are we doing here?”
“I was hoping you’d tell me that. When you didn’t come home by lunch, I went looking for you. Your phone’s off.”
“I forgot to turn it on after the store. I don’t remember coming over here.”
“What do you remember?” He hadn’t expected her not to remember.
“I remember riding home. It was hot and my legs didn’t want to keep riding. I stopped on the road…” She thought for a moment and then shrugged. “After that, I just don’t remember.”
“I think you got overtired. How do you feel?”
“Thirsty.”
Chad led her to his truck, slammed the door shut behind her, and looked heavenward. “Lord, what am I supposed to do with her?”
“Did you say it was lunch time?”
Nodding, Chad made a U-turn and zipped toward home. “Yep. Half an hour ago or so. That’s when I noticed you weren’t home.”
“The guys must be starving. I’m so sorry.”
“They’re making sandwiches and relaxing on the porch as we speak.”
She glanced at her hands. “I’m hungry. Where’s the stuff I bought?”
“In the back of the truck with your bike.” Chad drummed the steering wheel with his thumb as he carried on a private inward debate. “Will you do something for me, Lass?”
“Sure.”
“No more trips to town, especially in this heat, until your exhaustion is past? It bothers me that you don’t remember walking to the side of the road.”
She nodded as he pulled into the driveway. “I’m just not used to having to think about whether I can make it home or not. It’s such an easy ride that—”
“You’re riding for three. Maybe that’s why.”
Willow groaned as she climbed from the cab of the tr
uck. “Chad my dear, that is going to get very old, very quickly.”
“Go lay down. I’ll bring you water and a sandwich.”
“That, however,” she continued grinning, “will not get old for a long time.”
September—
I’m still sleeping more than usual but not quite as much as I was. At ten weeks, my body seems to have adjusted to things much more than they were at first. I occasionally feel a bit peaked in the evening but resting, the cooler weather, and lemonade really seem to help. I drink a lot of lemonade these days. Chad says I’m going to have children with very sour dispositions.
The bulk of the canning is over now. I’m working on pumpkin, apples, and some of the fruit that we froze until I had time to can it. Odd way to do things but it’s working. I planted my first set of fall crops in the greenhouse. As of today, the entire thing is being utilized to its fullest potential, with the exception of hanging planters. Chad was planning to build me some, but with the rush to finish the barn, it looks like we’ll be ordering them instead. The manufacturer of our kit makes great accessories that are, in my opinion, ridiculously expensive, but Chad assures me they’re worth the investment. He says what I’ve made in produce sales this year has already paid for half the cost of the greenhouse and its installation, so I guess it really will be worth it.
We realized last night that we forgot to tell Grandmother and Grandfather Finley about the babies. I’ve written them a letter and enclosed it in a special “announcement card” that I made. I said that babies are twice as nice when they come in double portions. Chad said it was cheesy, but he couldn’t keep that giant grin off his face as he said it, so I know he was pleased.
Past Forward- A Serial Novel: Volume 4 Page 25