by Janette Oke
But his team did win the championship. Virginia was so proud of him. She could hardly wait for Christmas, when he would be home, so she could properly tell him so.
But then a letter arrived. Jamison would not be home for Christmas. The coach wanted him to stay and work with some freshman players. He would be paid for his time. It was too good an opportunity to miss. Virginia was devastated, but she wrote back quickly telling him that she understood.
“I hope Clara is much better so that you can come second term,” his letter also said. But Clara was not better. Not that much better. She was able to be up for a portion of each day now. Could sit in a chair and nurse her growing baby. But she certainly wasn’t ready to return to her own home and assume the responsibility of wife and mother. Virginia knew that she wouldn’t be joining Jamison anytime soon. She sadly wrote to tell him so.
By the time the holidays were over, Clara could be up for hours at a time. At the end of January there was more color in her cheeks and further strength in her body. February ended. Clara could sweep a floor. Get a meal. She still needed to rest off and on throughout the day, but everyone was encouraged with her progress.
The traditional March winds came in gale force. Virginia had looked forward to getting out, taking Anthony for walks in the carriage. Maybe even getting Clara outside for some fresh air. But the wind prevented that.
Anthony, nine months old now, was a happy, energetic baby who felt entitled to the full attention of everyone in the household. With six people to care for his needs—and most of his wants—he had no reason to be out of sorts. He was now pulling himself up to stand on his own feet and thinking about the possibility of advancing from creeping to walking. Virginia fleetingly wondered why he would even bother as she rescued him from another exploration of the kitchen cupboards. It seemed he already got everywhere he wanted to be, in short order.
Rodney was having a good junior year at university. He still had glowing reports about his church group. In fact, one name from the group seemed to be cropping up in his letters fairly often. Grace Featherstone. Virginia noted that every time he wrote about any church activity, Grace was included in his description of the event. So far Rodney claimed no special relationship with the young lady, but those at home smiled whenever they read her name.
Jamison’s sporadic letters did not include references to what his church group had recently been discussing. Virginia wondered if he feared her displeasure or if he had been missing church. In her own heart she wasn’t sure which was preferable. She feared that Jamison’s new church group might be doing more to destroy his faith than to build it. But not to go to church at all—that seemed destructive, as well.
April’s showers and the resulting flowers brought smiles of pleasure to the whole family. Clara could be up for most of the day now, and she was talking more frequently about getting back to her own home. Virginia was glad for her sister’s return to a more normal life, but she dreaded the thought of losing little Anthony. He was daily lengthening his journeys on those short, uncertain legs.
In May they all agreed that Clara was well enough to be on her own. With great care, she was moved back to the little house on the edge of town. Belinda insisted on continuing to prepare the evening meal, which was delivered by one or another of the Simpsons. Virginia went over twice a week to help with the cleaning and the laundry. Things seemed to be getting back to what they should be.
There never was a proper diagnosis for Clara’s strange malady. It troubled Doctor Luke and worried Clara in spite of her efforts to put it in the past. Virginia knew she wanted more children and was fearful that the debilitating situation might be repeated.
Jenny actually had written a couple of letters over the winter months. Even that much correspondence surprised Virginia. Jenny’s breezy notes were full of trips and weekend parties and new experiences that Virginia could in no way understand. Her heart ached for Jenny. It sounded as though the girl had chosen the wrong friends and taken a foolish path.
Virginia stopped in to the newspaper office to ask Jenny’s father when her friend would be home, and he just shook his head.
“She won’t be home,” he said gruffly. “Says she’s gonna get a job.”
Virginia should not have been surprised at that, but the news disturbed her.
“She might as well have stayed home in the first place,” the father went on with a scowl. “Flunked most of her courses.”
“Jenny?” Virginia could hardly believe it. Jenny had been a good student when she’d made up her mind to be. She certainly was bright enough.
“Been doing nothin’ but partying. Well, it’s her life. But I’ve told her I’ll only pay for one more year. If she doesn’t settle down and get some good grades, I’m through. She can make her own way in the world.”
He turned back to his presses, and Virginia knew she was dismissed. She walked home feeling dejected. Jenny’s class failures had not been good news. Besides, Virginia had been counting on her being home for the summer. In spite of Virginia’s frustration and discouragement over Jenny’s attitudes, the two girls had many years of friendship and experiences between them. Virginia truly cared for her wayward friend.
———
When Rodney came home, Virginia noticed more changes in him than she had the year before. But they were not differences she didn’t like. He seemed much more mature. More thoughtful of others. More concerned about his faith and God’s plan for his life. And there were those occasional references to Grace.
Virginia concluded that Rodney was growing up and that their days of having him living at home, sharing the household, might indeed be drawing to a close. She didn’t much like that idea. It had been hard enough when Clara got married and left the Simpson household. They had at least kept her in their small town. Virginia had the impression that when Rodney left, God’s plan, when discovered, might lead him on an entirely different path. She felt a knot in her stomach when she thought of the future. Things were changing too much. Too fast.
Even young Danny was quickly approaching high school graduation and was making plans to be off to college in the fall to study veterinary medicine. Danny seemed so much younger than Rodney had been when he went off to start college. But then, Rodney and Jamison had both decided to work a year before leaving for school. Danny was planning to plunge right in. So when Virginia also went to college in the fall, there would just be Francine left at home. As excited as Virginia was about her own future at college, the thought was staggering. Such a short time ago there had been seven of them around the supper table. In a few short months there might be only three.
Her world was changing far too rapidly. But there didn’t seem to be much she could do about it.
———
When Jamison wrote that he would not be coming home for the summer, Virginia had expected it. He was going to stay and take up the job he’d had the summer before.
“But I do hope to get home for a weekend before I start,” his letter assured her. “I really do need to have a talk with you. I don’t want to put it in a letter.”
Put what in a letter? Surely he was not going to propose marriage when they both had schooling still ahead of them. Though the idea was not unwelcome, that kind of start to married life would be very unwise. She was sure both sets of parents would object. No, she really didn’t think Jamison could be thinking of that.
Was it about his church then? Had he found a new one as she had suggested? No, he would have felt free to tell her about that in a letter. He knew she would be happy for him.
Surely he hadn’t discarded his faith. Surely not. Jamison was much too devout and settled to do a thing like that.
Was it about football? Had he changed his mind about being professional? Or had he been told that he’d never make it? Had there been an injury he had not explained that would stop him from his dream?
Virginia fretted about Jamison’s letter. She felt that something was wrong. Something was troubling him. It could
not be good news, or he would have poured it out on the paper, unable to wait to share it with her.
It caused a strange ripple of fear that tightened her stomach and made her heart beat more rapidly.
But there was nothing she could do but wait.
CHAPTER 8
Rodney arrived home and took a summer job with his brother-in-law, Troy, in the Dunworthy family store. Troy’s father had decided to take the summer off. He and his wife would make the long-desired trip back to England to visit her family. That left Troy needing help to run the business. Rodney was pleased with the arrangement. He could start working immediately and could put in as many hours as he desired. He plunged right in, stocking shelves, doing clean-up chores, and waiting on customers. Soon Troy was appreciating some free time at home with Clara and little Anthony. Rodney seemed to be a natural in running the place, and the store did not suffer with Troy’s absence. Rodney even kept the accounts and balanced the monthly statements, a chore that Troy detested. He began to joke that he had no intention of letting Rodney get away for school again.
Danny’s summer job was with a local farmer, and his days were spent driving a team of horses, first planting and then haying. They began at five each morning with the choring and milking, and ended that way after a long, tiring day. Danny didn’t mind the long hours or hard work. He was earning money for college, and as long as he could be handling animals he was quite happy.
For Virginia, it felt like a lazy summer after the extra responsibility and time helping Clara. At first it was strange to have no baby in the house. No invalid sister. But they all seemed to quickly adjust. Virginia learned to enjoy the lovely warm days and moments by her beloved creek without the pressure to keep up on all the chores for two households.
She still made frequent trips to Clara’s, but her sister was feeling fine now and was quite specific in her desire to be keeping her own house and looking after her own “two men.” So Virginia’s little jaunts over to Clara’s became social visits with her sister and Anthony rather than to take over household tasks.
She did put in a few hours each week in her father’s law office, keeping accounts and filing. But she still found time for sewing and needlework that she tucked away in the cedar chest she had received for her seventeenth birthday. Danny teased her about her growing collection in the hope chest, but Virginia just smiled, tossed her head, and enjoyed the ribbing. After all, Jamison would not be attending college forever, and even the wife of a professional football player needed housekeeping items.
So the summer months blurred one into the other. Life seemed to rather drone on, neither particularly difficult nor exciting. Belinda remarked that people needed such times. It gave them opportunity to regroup. If simple routine continued for too long, it would certainly become a rut, but it seemed to agree with them after the months that had preceded it.
The weather, too, suited the ordinary atmosphere. Neither extremely hot nor cold. Not rainy nor arid. Just—natural. Days mixed with rain and sunshine, periods of clear skies and cloud. Times of wind and times of calm. Like life itself.
Little Anthony continued to grow in personality and size, becoming not just a member of the family but the hub of their entertainment. Virginia wondered how they had imagined they were really living before his coming. His first steps excited them. His first words delighted them. They laughed and frolicked and coaxed and encouraged. And shared every new discovery that he made with one another, repeating every little anecdote to anyone willing to listen.
Mr. Adamson seemed to take special delight in the small boy, so Virginia made sure she took him to the fence for frequent visits. Anthony was even invited into the yard and allowed to collect bouquets for his mother or grandmother. He squealed with delight, holding the tender stems in tightened baby fists, anxious to get home with his treasure.
———
“I feel like . . . like a bumblebee,” Virginia remarked to her mother one day as they sat on the front porch doing needlework together.
“A bumblebee?”
“Fat and lazy. Like that one over there.” She pointed with her needle to a nearby flowering bush.
“Bumblebees are far from lazy,” Belinda responded with a chuckle.
“Well, they look lazy.”
It was true. The one in question did seem to take its own sweet time, testing out each blossom, hanging midair or dropping for a sip from this, a drink from that. Or just crawling in and out of the large blooms, in no hurry to go anywhere at all.
Belinda laughed again. “I’d hate to put in the miles that bumblebee does in a day.”
Virginia shrugged. “Well, it is so different not having to race through the day and still not be able to keep up with all that needs to be done. I mean, look at us. We’ve just washed up the supper dishes and here we sit. We have the whole evening to do nothing except what we feel like doing. It’s so different.”
Belinda nodded her agreement. “I like to think that this is the normal way to live. Not the other,” she responded.
Virginia considered that idea for a few moments. “You know, it might be fine—for a while. But I think it might get boring.”
“Don’t borrow trouble,” her mother cautioned.
Virginia stood and stretched. “Trouble I can do without, but a little excitement wouldn’t hurt.”
“Frankly, I’m enjoying the change of pace. But it is rather dull at times for you, isn’t it? Rodney and Danny off working all hours. Jenny gone. Jamison . . .”
“I think I’ll go write to Jamison. I’ve no idea what I’ll tell him. Nothing has happened since . . . since the Pickerly’s pig got loose and rooted up Mrs. Tingle’s garden.”
Belinda laughed. “That was two weeks ago.”
“That’s my point.”
Belinda laughed again. “I’m sure your summer would be much different if Jamison were here.”
Virginia did not comment. She was sure that was correct. But Jamison was not here. He still hadn’t come, even after his letter had stated that he planned to be home to discuss something personally. Whenever Virginia thought about that planned discussion, her stomach tightened. Jamison had not referred to it again, but she had the feeling that it was still there. Still needing to be addressed—whatever it was. Jamison’s subsequent letters seemed different somehow. Rather—stiff and stilted. But maybe she was imagining it. Perhaps it was just that he was so very busy. Virginia was only too happy to mark it down to that.
———
A mid-August knock on the front door, and Virginia found Jamison standing on the porch. With a glad squeal she flung herself into his arms, and he held her close for a long time.
It was Virginia who pulled away, needing to see his face. His smile was a little crooked, maybe a little uncertain?
“When did you get home?” she asked, for something safe to start with.
“About twenty minutes ago.”
“You didn’t tell me—”
“I wasn’t sure I would make it.”
She gathered her emotions—surprise, joy, a little fear—and reached for his hand. “Come in. Everyone will be so—”
“No, I’d rather not. Can we take a walk—or something?”
Virginia felt momentary bewilderment. Jamison always came in to greet the family—even if he was anxious to see her alone.
“Sure,” she nodded. “I’ll . . . I’ll just tell my folks I’ll be out for a while.”
Jamison nodded and stepped back from the door to wait.
When Virginia joined him, he was silently gazing off into the distance, his hands stuffed in his pockets. When he saw her, he gave a quick smile and reached for her hand.
“Where do you want to go?” she asked.
“How about the creek?”
She nodded and fell into step beside him. It seemed that Jamison intended a rather lengthy stroll.
They walked quietly until they reached the last street of the town. Virginia could stand the silence no longer. “How is footb
all going?”
“We haven’t been doing as much this summer. I don’t know. It’s hard to get the fellows motivated. Guess winning the championship last year sort of took away their drive or something. Not many of them even stayed around.”
Virginia could tell that it had disappointed him. Jamison was keen on more than one championship.
Silence again.
“How’s work?”
“It’s going okay. Pretty routine.”
More silence. They were almost to the creek. As they walked through the neighboring woods, they could hear its soft murmur as the water gently slid over the rocks and fallen trees. At this time of year the creek was anything but a torrent.
“How’s your summer been?” Jamison asked.
Virginia looked up into his face. Here was someone to whom she could express her innermost feelings. Here was someone who would understand.
“At first it was wonderful. It was so good to not have to be on the run all the time. To actually be able to slow down and take a breath. But after a few weeks of that I—well—I’m bored. Quite simply, restless and rather weary of the sameness. Mama and I get the work done and then just sit and sew. Oh . . . we drive out to Grandpa’s now and then and have tea with Grandma, or I go over to Clara’s and play with Anthony. But it’s . . . it’s rather dull. I mean, most of our friends are off somewhere . . . or working. I’m just putting in time.”
He gave her hand an understanding squeeze.
“Maybe you should get a job.”
“I work a few hours a week for my father. It’s not the most exciting job in the world. Adding numbers and shuffling papers into proper files.” She shrugged.
He chuckled. “Sounds like you have the malady of youth.”
“Malady of youth?”
“That’s what my ma calls it. Says every young person goes through a time when life just isn’t exciting enough—no matter what happens. She calls it Malady of Youth. Says it’s a disease we all outgrow—in time.”
“So have you outgrown it?” Virginia asked teasingly.