When she finished the vegetables, Ty was just walking back into the yard with the girls, their cheeks sticky and their hair curling around their faces from the humidity in the air. Fireflies winked in the low limbs of the oak tree and hovered in the grass around their feet. He paused to wait for her, but she waved them on, wanting to finish before dark.
After loosening the lantana and salvia from their pots and settling them into the ground, she sat back on her heels to survey her work. Everything was ready for sunshine and afternoon rain showers. Over time, the blossoms and leaves would fill the empty space next to the split-rail fence Ty’s grandfather built around the garden so many years ago. New hope growing next to old dreams.
twenty-nine
Ty
Tropical Storm Ingrid nearing hurricane intensity. Center of the storm located southeast of the Lesser Antilles moving west at 18 mph. Gradual turn to the west-northwest expected in next 24 hours.
Ty considered it a good day if he made it back into the house before dinnertime with Betsy. Prior to this summer, most days were good days, but with the arrival of Addie and Walsh and their five-thirty dinnertime, he couldn’t make any promises. Often he was still in the barn—filling his notebooks with notations and checkmarks, cleaning, preparing for the next day—while Betsy fixed the girls’ dinner, fed them, started their baths.
This evening, though, he wrapped up in the barn earlier than usual and entered the kitchen while Betsy was still stirring pasta on the stove. The girls were huddled on the den floor with a five-hundred-piece puzzle.
“Planning to keep them busy for a while?” He rested his hand on the small of her back and nodded in the girls’ direction.
“I don’t even know where they found that. They were running around chasing Etta, and the next thing I knew, puzzle pieces were all over the floor.”
“You remember the puzzle though, right?”
Betsy smiled and nodded. “I remember.”
When Ty and Betsy had first started dating, he brought a puzzle to her apartment one night. She’d been surprised, but he knew it’d be a way for them to talk, to get to know each other. He also knew it’d give him something else to concentrate on when all he wanted to do was tangle his fingers in her hair and kiss her all night. The puzzle was his attempt to be a gentleman.
“I had good intentions, you have to admit.” He stuck a spoon in the sauce simmering on the stove. “Are those capers? Think they’ll like it?”
Betsy shrugged. “I hope so. It’d keep me from having to make two dinners.”
Ty sat on one of the stools at the counter and stretched his legs out in front of him. He needed to run upstairs and shower, but it felt so good to just sit for a minute.
Betsy tapped the spoon on the edge of the pot and laid it on the spoon rest. “I may have some peas for you in the fall. If everything goes well.”
“You have Gran’s cast-iron skillet, don’t you? We could make cornbread to go with them.” His grandmother had made cornbread with almost every meal when Ty was young. And she’d served it on the same kitchen table he and Betsy used now.
Betsy wiped her hands on a dish towel, then sat on a stool next to him. “Maybe after all these years I’ll finally turn into the wife who’ll cook meat-and-three dinners.” She poked him in the chest. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”
“If I just wanted someone to make me meat-and-three meals, Ollie’s is right up the road. I’d be happy there.” He grabbed her finger and pulled her closer. “I have you for other reasons.”
“Oh, is that right?” She smiled and he relished the lightness on her face.
With her hand still in his, she shifted on her stool and turned toward the den where Addie and Walsh were still sprawled on the floor with puzzle pieces scattered everywhere. “The girls are happy here.”
Ty nodded. “They seem to be.”
“I think if we could pack Rosie up in a suitcase, Addie would take her everywhere. She’s crazy about that cow.”
Ty laughed. “I think you’re right.”
“And the hens, the swing, the creek. This is what childhood is supposed to be like—barefoot and dirty, going to bed exhausted.”
“That kind of describes our days too. Except the barefoot part for me.”
Betsy smiled. Other than the sauce simmering and the water boiling, the kitchen was silent. “Jenna’s looking for jobs, you know. She has it in her head that this place, Halcyon, is going to open all kinds of doors for her.”
“And you don’t think so?”
“I have no idea. She’s just pinning a lot of hopes on this retreat and what it can lead to as far as jobs. She said her mentor has his foot in the door at places all over the country.”
“Hmm,” Ty murmured. “I guess it wouldn’t surprise me if at the end of all this, she decides to shake things up.”
A squeal came from the den. “This is it!” Addie yelled, holding up a single puzzle piece. She handed it to Walsh, who dropped it and went back to rolling a small stuffed ball to Etta.
He smiled and turned back to Betsy, but she was looking down, oblivious to Addie’s elation, her brow creased in concentration.
“What is it?” he asked.
“We have good schools around here,” she said after a moment.
He straightened up in his seat.
“The elementary school. It’s good.”
“And?” he said slowly.
“Jenna hasn’t said when she’s coming back. And you said it yourself: she could go on from the retreat to something else.”
He willed himself to nod, his mind working to come up with the right words, and quick. “I was thinking more along the lines of her finding a new job—not that she’d stay gone. She has to come back for her kids. She knows that.”
“I know. I just . . .” She shrugged. “It’s already August. What do we do if school starts and she’s not here?”
“Betsy, I . . .” He stopped, pressed his lips together. “I think it’s a little early to be thinking about that. The kids have their own school and friends in Nashville. They’ll want to get back home.”
She gazed in the direction of the girls, but he feared that instead of seeing them, she looked past them, through them, to other possibilities, other dreams. Finally, she turned back to him. “You’re right. I know you’re right. It was a crazy idea.”
“Is it time to eat yet?” Addie yelled from the den.
Betsy swiveled her head to the girls, her face caught somewhere between disappointment and relief. “Yes, it is,” she said after the briefest pause. She hopped off the stool and touched Ty’s arm. “Iced tea or water?” she asked, her voice casual.
All through dinner, Ty’s mind whirled with their fractured conversation. Betsy didn’t seem affected by it. In fact, she seemed lighter somehow, even more animated. She laughed at Walsh’s impersonation of Walker falling off an overturned bucket and indulged Addie in a lengthy session of “One Hundred Questions.”
An hour later he was about to step in the shower—could already feel the hot water loosening his muscles, washing away the heat and stress of the day—when Betsy’s phone vibrated on the dresser. She’d left it there before taking the girls into the hall bathroom to bathe them before bed.
He left the water running and crossed the room to check the screen.
Jenna.
He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He wanted to just let voice mail pick up, but at the last second he answered. “Hang on,” he said in place of a greeting. “Let me get Betsy.”
Without waiting for an answer, he took the phone across the hall to the bathroom. He peered in through the half-closed door, just enough to see Betsy with one hand on a wet, wiggling Walsh and the other hand trying to cover a shivering Addie with a towel.
He crossed back into his room and closed the door behind him. “Give her a few minutes to finish up what she’s doing.” With reluctance he turned the shower off in the bathroom and sat on the bed. “How are things going?”
“They’re going really well.”
He raised his eyebrows, surprised to hear the confidence in her voice. “That’s great, Jenna.”
“I can’t imagine what you must think of me, staying gone this long. But I’m making some real progress here, so . . .” She paused. “Thank you. For taking care of the girls, for letting me work on . . . well, on me.”
“Yeah, well, your sister really loves you.” He squeezed his eyes closed and ran his hand over the top of his head. “I do too, of course, but Betsy wanted to do this for you. She’s thinking something big is going to come out of your trip down there.”
Jenna let out a gentle laugh. “But you think otherwise?”
“I don’t know, Jenna. I’m just not sure what’s going on. Remind me what you’re doing at this art thing.”
“I’m trying to build something different for our life. For my life with the girls.”
“How so?”
She paused, then sighed. “My job is to make coffee for people who spend as much on their caffeine habit as I do on groceries. I train employees. I clean up messes and defuse hot tempers and give away free drinks when a barista makes a mistake. Day in, day out.”
“But—”
“I come home to the girls exhausted, but I haven’t done anything all day that I’m proud of or that they can be proud of. I don’t want them to see me as someone who’s given up her dream just for a paycheck.” Her voice rose as she spoke. “Even if nothing comes of this, I want them to know I worked for it. That I tried to follow my calling. Does that make sense?”
Despite his frustration, it did make sense. He followed his heart to the farm instead of accepting the life of relative ease that an accounting job would provide. But he wasn’t ready to admit that to Jenna. “There’s nothing wrong with steady work. I have the same schedule seven days a week, every week of the year. And you want to talk about exhausted? How hard is it to pour coffee?” He leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees. “I’m sorry. It’s just . . . What you do brings in a paycheck. It pays your bills. Not everyone has that.”
“I get that. I do. And I appreciate that steady paycheck. But I want to get to a place where I can try to pay bills with my art. Or at least make it a bigger part of my life. This place is opening my eyes to how I may be able to do that.” Through the phone, he heard a door open, then a chorus of loud nighttime noises.
“I thought you didn’t get cell reception there.”
“I don’t. I called from my cabin. I had to charge it to my credit card, but I didn’t want to worry about the call dropping.” The chains of a porch swing creaked. “Things are changing for me, Ty. My mentor has talked to some magazine editors to see if I can start as a freelancer. And I’ve opened my Etsy shop back up. I posted a new collection of photos I’ve taken here and I’ve already had two orders.” Pride filled her voice.
Part of him was glad for her, but his frustration made him keep pushing. “That’s great, but what comes next? What happens if another too-good-to-miss opportunity comes on the heels of this one and you just have to take it? Do we keep the girls indefinitely while you keep following your true calling?”
He was being harsh, but he couldn’t stop himself. His and Betsy’s life had changed with the arrival of the girls. While Betsy was leaning into the unknown, even welcoming it, Ty was getting nervous. And Betsy’s comments about school had only increased his tension. Sure, she agreed that it was a crazy idea to think about enrolling them in school, but he knew her ache was still there. The unmet desire.
“No, Ty, that’s not it.” Jenna exhaled forcefully. “I don’t think I’m explaining myself very well.”
“Well, while you’re figuring it out, don’t forget we have two little kids living in our house. Your kids.”
“I know that, and I know I’m walking a fine line staying away from them for this long.”
“I think you may be right on that.”
“But they sound happy every time I talk to them. Like they’re having the time of their lives. Like they don’t mind that I’m still gone, because they’re with fun parents now.”
“That’s ridiculous. You’re the parent. We don’t know what we’re doing. We’re just stand-ins until you get back.” As he said the words, he thought of all he and Betsy had learned about parenting during their six-week crash course. Then he thought of Betsy in the other room getting the girls ready for bed. “Look, it’s late. I don’t want this to turn into a fight.”
“Do you think I’m a bad mother?” Her voice was quiet. “That I can’t take care of my kids? I want to hear it if that’s what you think.”
“No one’s saying that, Jenna. To be honest, Addie and Walsh seem to be happy, well-adjusted kids, and that probably says a lot about your mothering skills. It’s up to them to decide what kind of mom you are, but I have to tell you, your sister skills could use a little work.”
Jenna was silent. Ty continued.
“You pack up your kids and drop them off with Betsy—the sister who for five years has been unable to have her own children—and expect us to just accept it. To kick back and wait for your little adventure to end so you can blow back in here whenever your time is done and whisk these girls away. Then you get to return to your life with Addie and Walsh while your sister—my wife—is left with a silent house.”
Ty rubbed his hand across his eyes, pushing hard until colors exploded behind his eyelids. He glanced toward the bathroom—steam still fogged the mirror from the hot water running only minutes ago. He wished he were in there now, scalding water pounding his back, beating the tension out of his shoulders.
“I didn’t know,” she stammered. “About Betsy. And you. Five years?”
“She’d been off the pill for six months when you called and told her you were pregnant.”
“Oh,” Jenna breathed. “I had no idea. I just figured y’all were . . . I don’t know, waiting. So when she stayed with us last summer, she was talking about some tests . . . I didn’t ask for details. I should have asked.”
“We’d just done our first IUI. It’s where you . . .” He cleared his throat. His anger had leaked out, leaving him drained. And his head was pounding. “Anyway, it didn’t work and we found out the day before she left. She’d been hoping . . . We’d both hoped it would turn out differently.”
Jenna groaned. “I can’t believe she didn’t tell me. Why wouldn’t she say anything?”
“Would it have made a difference? Would you have skipped the retreat if you’d known?”
“I don’t know, I . . .” She exhaled.
Ty scanned the perimeter of their bedroom. Their wedding photo framed on the wall, their clean, folded clothes mingled together on a side chair, a pair of Betsy’s sandals on the floor. His eyes rested on a glass jar sitting on her nightstand, next to a glass of water and a paperback she read every night before bed. The jar had a smattering of debris at the bottom. It took only a moment to realize what it was. After Addie found the first heart-shaped rock at the creek and passed it to Betsy, it became a game between the three of them—Betsy and the girls. Whenever they came across anything heart shaped—mostly rocks, but leaves and pieces of bark too—they’d stick it in their pockets. Ty didn’t know Betsy had saved them.
“I don’t think it was the easiest thing for her to talk about. But knowing Betsy, even if she had told you what was going on, she still would have wanted you to go on this trip. To do what you needed to do. But she’s my wife and it’s my duty to protect her. I’m sure you plan to come back here at some point, but until then, we have a life, a farm to take care of, and two kids to try to love and entertain while you’re gone. Just do me a favor and give us a heads-up before you come back this way.”
He waited for Jenna to explode back with as much force as she could muster, but she didn’t. “Are the girls still awake? I’d like to talk to them.”
He wanted to say no, but she was their mother. “I can check.”
Ty crossed the hall and tapped
on the door. Addie and Walsh were in bed but still awake. Betsy sat on the edge of the bed talking quietly to them. “Girls? Your mom’s on the phone.”
Betsy moved to make room for Ty, and he handed the phone to Addie. “Hold it out so you both can hear.”
“Mommy?” Addie asked.
“Hi, baby. How are you?”
Sitting so close to Addie on the bed, they could hear Jenna’s voice coming through the phone as clear as if she were sitting right there with them.
“Good.”
“What have you been doing?”
Addie shrugged.
“Addie?”
Betsy leaned down and whispered, “Tell her about the henhouse.”
“We get to check the hens for eggs every morning. Yesterday I found four all by myself.”
“I found two,” Walsh added.
“You did? That’s so cool. Will you show me the hens when I get there?”
“Are you getting here tomorrow?”
“No, baby, I won’t be there tomorrow. But I’ll be back soon. I promise.”
“But that’s what you said last time.”
“I know. You just have to trust me, okay? I love you both so much. When I see you, I’ll hug you in the tightest hugs you’ve ever had. How does that sound?”
A smile played on Addie’s lips. “Super-duper tight?”
“Super-duper-duper-duper tight. How about that?”
“Good,” Walsh said.
“Okay, sweet girls. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Okay. I love you, Mommy.”
“I love you too.”
Lying in bed, Ty wanted to tell Betsy about the call with Jenna—the longing he heard in her voice, but the determination too. The things that worried him. But when it came to Jenna, he didn’t know how to navigate the sore places in Betsy’s heart.
Her impossible idea of enrolling the girls in school still weighed heavy on his mind, and he knew he wouldn’t sleep with so much unspoken between them. He rolled onto his side and looked at her, her profile sharp in the light coming in through the window. “You awake?” he whispered.
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