Rose Farm Trilogy Boxset

by Kennedy, Brenda

  I yell, “And beyond.”

  I hear, “To infinity,” again and I walk in the direction of Sawyer Jackson’s voice.

  I smile and feel so much relief that my boy is safe. “And beyond,” I yell one more time. When I finally reach him, I find him in the toy aisle. There is a woman holdin’ his hand, walkin’ him towards the front of the store.

  “I assume he belongs to you,” she says, lettin’ go of his hand.

  He runs up to me and hugs me tightly. I try to replace the fear on my face with a smile, but my heart is still poundin’. My mind races with thoughts of what could have happened.

  “Thank you,” I say to her. She smiles and continues shoppin’.

  I kneel down and hug my son. “You scared me.”

  “When I looked up, I couldn’t find you.”

  “It’s okay, Buddy.” I lift a too-big Sawyer Jackson and place him in the grocery cart.

  “Momma, I’m too big to be in a cart.”

  “If you can get lost, then you’re not too big for the cart.”

  Chapter Four (Forever Country)

  Mia

  Levi and I have an appointment with my OB/GYN doctor today. We received the news of the testin’ that my blood levels were abnormal and that I’m at risk that our baby may have Down syndrome. Levi and I dismissed the option of terminatin’ the pregnancy.

  When we told his parents, they took the news just as I thought they would. They were understandin’ and compassionate. They understand that Levi and I will be wonderful parents to a child with or without disabilities. Levi and I had three miscarriages before this pregnancy and we really want a child. Just because a child has disabilities doesn’t mean we’ll love them any less.

  My parents are both deceased and I have no other family members who live nearby. I was an only child and my parents died in an automobile accident shortly after Levi and I got married. I have a few aunts and uncles who live in Texas, but we aren’t close.

  We wait in the small waitin’ area of the doctor’s office for the nurse to call our name. I reach into my bag and pull out two identical books. I hand one to Levi and I keep the other one. Everything You Need to Know About Raising a Child with Down Syndrome. I doubt that the book has everything we need to know, but I do think it’ll be helpful.

  Levi takes the book and looks over at the book I’m holding. “I thought we could read it together.”

  “Good idea.”

  The nurse calls me back. She gets my weight and put us in another room where the doctor is already sittin’ and waitin’ for us. This isn’t the normal protocol for this doctor’s office. They usually put us in another room to wait again. “Please have a seat,” he instructs and we do. Once seated he says, “During your last visit, we didn’t have much time to talk. I was hoping to remedy that. I know your decision was to continue with the pregnancy and I just wanted to see if your decision still remained.” I hold up the book Everything You Need to Know About Raising a Child with Down Syndrome. “Very well. Do you have any questions or something you want to know?” he asks.

  We tell him our concerns and we also tell him our mind is made up. We won’t be abortin’ this pregnancy. If God wants to take this baby, it’s His will. We won’t willingly abort it because there’s a chance something is wrong. He explains to us the different severity levels of the syndrome and briefly explains what we should expect. They’ll know from the appearance of the baby at birth if it has the syndrome, but they’ll still do testin’ to confirm it. He also tells us his daughter was born with Down syndrome and that her case was severe. He sadly tells us she passed away before her first birthday. Of course, that was years ago and then he and his wife never suspected their child was at risk. He smiles and says, “It wouldn’t have mattered, my wife and I would have still had her.” He says, “It’s better to have loved her for only a short time than not at all.” He also adds that it didn’t stop them from having other children. He nods to the picture on the wall of him, his wife, and their four sons. The sons all look fine with no indication that any of them has Down syndrome. The doctor does say that one problem is who will take care of the child after the parents die, if the child outlives the parents.

  Before we leave, Levi and I feel better about this pregnancy than we have since we found out the news. The doctor tells us that my body could still terminate the pregnancy, meaning that I could still have a miscarriage. I know if that happens, it’s God’s way of correcting something that isn’t right. We’ll just pray that doesn’t happen.

  Savannah Mae

  I drop Sawyer Jackson off at my parents’ house and I head to work for the dinner shift. I work with Mia tonight and I’m excited to see her. We both arrive at the same time and we take our assigned tables and get to work. Dinner is busier than breakfast and lunch, and the tips are considerably higher. We get a rush, and then it dies down before we get another rush. It’s cold and there’s talk that a storm’s comin’ in tonight. Mia and I keep the coffee fresh and alert each other when we sell out of a special.

  We both keep up and work well together. Her purse falls over from under the counter and when I pick it up, a book falls from it. Everything You Need to Know About Raising a Child With Down Syndrome. I read the title and freeze. My heart immediately hurts and I get a feelin’ of deep sadness for her and for Levi.

  “You taking a break down there?” Mia asks.

  I stand up still holdin’ the book. “This fell out of your purse,” I say as I hand her the book.

  Her smile fades and she takes the book from me. “I meant to leave that in the car.” She shoves the book deep into her purse and zips it up before replacin’ it back under the counter.

  “You need someone to talk to?”

  Mia and I have been friends for many years. I understand if she has something personal to deal with, but I want her to know I am here for her. When I found out Ethan was cheatin’ on me, the last thing I wanted to do was go tellin’ everybody my business. Not that this is anything like a cheatin’ husband, but I still want her to know I’m her friend.

  “Do you mind if we talk after closin’ time? I don’t really want customers to overhear us.”

  “I’m here whenever you need me.” I try to give her my best smile.

  “Thank you, Savannah Mae.”

  When the last customer leaves and it’s closin’ time, we lock up and do our sidework. We sit down at the booth and begin to roll the silverware into the paper napkins. “You know that test you do in your first trimester to see if you may be at risk of havin’ a baby with Down syndrome?”

  “The blood test?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “I refused to take that test when I was pregnant for Sawyer Jackson.”

  “I wish I had. My test came back abnormal.” I can see the tears in her eyes.

  “Indicatin’ you’re at risk?”

  She nods. “It’s still difficult to talk about.”

  My mind drifts back to the church when Pearl was there with her daughter and granddaughter. The granddaughter was functional with her Down syndrome. I know there are different degrees of Down syndrome. Mild to severe. Those who are mild do well, and the most severe cases aren’t so lucky. “When do you get further testin’ done?”

  “Soon, probably with my next appointment. I think the doctor is waitin’ to see if my body terminates this pregnancy. Whatever the other tests reveal won’t change anything. Levi and I are excited about the baby and nothin’ will change that. This is our fourth pregnancy; we had three miscarriages previously. I have to believe that everything will be okay, and if it’s not, we’ll do the best we can.”

  We continue to roll the silverware as we remain in deep thought. “I’m glad you told me. Does Abel Lee know?”

  “He knows. We told him, Bud, and Nelly right after Christmas.”

  That was a couple weeks ago. They’ve known for a while and she never came to me. “I wish I knew what to say or do. I know very little about that.”

  “I
talked to Pearl’s daughter. She was a wealth of information, and their daughter, Jewel, gives us hope for a brighter tomorrow.”

  “Let’s go girls, the storm’s a comin’,” Bill the cook yells from the kitchen as he shuts off the kitchen lights.

  Mia and I gather the wrapped silverware and place it in the tub. We turn off the lights and leave. We all say our goodbyes and Bill waits for Mia and me to leave before he pulls out behind us.

  The snow is comin’ down pretty heavy, so I decide to go to my parents’ house and stay there with Sawyer Jackson. If we get the blizzard people say is comin’ and we lose power, I want to be with them and Samantha Marie. Samantha Marie still lives at home while she attends college.

  I park on the street and use my key to let myself into the house. Mom, Samantha Marie, and Daddy are in the kitchen, watchin’ the snow fall from the window.

  “There she is,” Daddy says. “Comin’ down pretty good; we were gettin’ worried about you.”

  “Work was busy, then the streets started gettin’ slick. How was Sawyer Jackson?”

  “Good, he’s in bed with his new toys. He sure does like them.”

  I smile and then I remember that I forgot my cell phone at the house. It’s brand-new so I’m not used to carryin’ it and so I walked out of the house without it. If Abel Lee calls, he’ll wonder where I am. If he sees the storm on the television, he’ll probably worry.

  “Savannah Mae, you feelin’ okay?” Mom asks.

  “I’m all right. I just remembered I left something at home. I was plannin’ on stayin’ here durin’ the storm, but I wonder if I shouldn’t just go home.”

  “There ain’t one thing that’s that important for you to be drivin’ around in weather like this. If you still need it tomorrow, I’ll go over and get it for you if it’s safe to drive,” Daddy says and it’s the end of the conversation.

  “You’re right.” And he is. I look out the window and the snow is comin’ down in big snowflakes. It’s beautiful to watch from inside the house, but I pray for the safety of those who are drivin’ in it. I hope Mia and the cook, Bill, got home all right. Mia lives close to work, but Bill, he lives in Deavertown. That’s a windin’ road he’ll need to travel on. I’ll pray for him. “I’m headed to bed, good night.”

  “Good night, Savannah Mae,” they all say in unison.

  Abel Lee

  My condo sold and I have an auction company coming in to sell off my furniture. I boxed up my personal items and boxing mementos and had them shipped to Momma and Pops’ house. I’m trying to finish up here so I can return to Rose Farm.

  I’ve been attempting to call Savannah Mae, but there’s no answer. Ohio and the East Coast were hit by a terrible snowstorm and it’s being broadcast all over the television. “The Storm of the Decade,” they’re calling it. It’s been over a week since I sent her the cell phone. I called her the first night of the storm and again the next day, but I haven’t been able to reach her or anyone else since then. I wish my family would have been tech savvy. Momma and Pops don’t even have a microwave in their house. It’s possible Mia, Levi, and Savannah Mae don’t even have an email address. If they do, I don’t know about it.

  With the murder of Megan Rose still unsolved, and with the anonymous letter I received, I can’t help but worry. I’d like to think everyone is snowed in and without phone service, but the idea of something of the likes of what happened to Megan Rose happening to Savannah Mae creeps into my head.

  The storm hit Ohio and is slowly making its way to the Northeast. It’s coming my way. I tried to get a flight out of New York, but all flights into Columbus, Ohio have been canceled. I want to get home and check on my parents, my brother and Mia, and Savannah Mae and Jackson Sawyer. I’m worried, and I don’t like the idea of not knowing what’s going on with any of them.

  The news has reported blizzard conditions with sub-zero temperatures. Several deaths have been reported in other counties from the storm. My mind replays the situation I left the farm in. Was there enough food in the house for Momma and Pops? Did I chop enough firewood? With that amount of snow, and with the deeply sloped driveway, they’ll be stranded. I wish I had someone to contact. I could call 911 for a well check, but I know that law enforcement will be busy with more important things. But what’s more important than the well-being of my family? Nothing.

  I call 911 and wait for some news. They said they’ll get out as soon as they can to check on Momma and Pops. I wait, I pace, and I stare out the large floor-to-ceiling glass window as the storm is making its way into the city. The snow is falling and is quickly accumulating. With the snowstorm settling in over the city, the people of New York aren’t even fazed. I watch them down below going about their life like any other day. It’ll take more than a snowstorm to stop New Yorkers.

  I get a letter with no return address. I sign for it and soon recognize the handwriting. It’s from the same person who wrote me while I was in Rose Farm during the holidays. I debate on opening it or just tossing it in the trash. I decide to open it.

  Abel Kennedy,

  Consider this a warning.

  Not a Fan

  Just like the last letter, there’s nothing else written on the note, and on the envelope is nothing but my name and address. I refold the letter and place it back in the envelope. I tap it on the table and try to think about every fight I’ve ever had and won. There are too many to recall all of them in any detail. Nothing and no one stands out in my head.

  My phone rings and I rush to answer it. It’s the Sheriff’s department telling me they were unable to make it up the hill to make the well check on my parents. Even on foot, the climb was impossible. I know they tried, but I still don’t feel any better. I can’t fly home, and I certainly can’t drive home in these conditions. I’m stuck until God knows when.

  I decide to make a run to the store to get a few must-have items. Coffee, beer, and more coffee and beer… maybe some bread and lunchmeat, but definitely coffee and beer. Standing outside is a woman panhandling. I reach into my wallet to give her some money when I hear a baby cry.

  She bounces up and down and the crying stops. I hand her the $20.00 bill and ask, “You got a baby?”

  “He’s hungry. I need money to feed him.”

  “Are you hungry, too?”

  “Yes, sir. I haven’t eaten today.”

  I look around and see a small diner a few buildings away. “I’ll be right back with some more money for you.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  I walk into the convenience store and buy a couple baby bottles, a can of powdered formula, diapers, and baby wipes, before leaving. I thank God when I see she is still standing outside of the store. “Let’s go eat,” I say.

  “No sir. I don’t feel comfortable leaving with you.” She bounces up and down and pats her belly through the thick coat she’s wearing.

  I look at her and I understand and appreciate her concern for her and the baby’s safety. I’m a big guy and when women see me walking toward them on the street, they sometimes cross the street or duck into a store until I pass. On many occasions, I’ve slowed down while walking so the woman walking ahead of me doesn’t think I’m trying to catch up with her. I’ve also crossed the street so that a woman going the same way I am doesn’t think that I’m following her.

  “I bought some things for your baby. The diner is right up the road. It looks busy enough and I promise not to hurt you. I just wanna talk and buy you something hot to eat.”

  “You won’t hurt my baby or me?”

  “I give you my word. I just want to buy you something to eat.” I hand her the bag of baby items and give her some more money. “I’m hungry,” I say. “If you want to join me for a sandwich, I’ll be right there in the little restaurant.” I don’t give her time to answer before I turn to leave.

  I walk into the well-lit diner and ask for a booth. I order a coffee and stall on ordering my dinner. I hear the bell over the door and I hope she’s decided to join me.


  “I need to change the baby. Would you mind watching this for me?” she asks, handing me the sack of things I just bought for the baby.

  I smile. “No, I don’t mind at all. Do you want me to order you something to drink?”

  “Can I have some hot tea?”

  “You can have whatever you want.” I watch as she removes her baby from a baby pouch beneath her winter coat. The baby and she are clean and wearing clean clothing. I’m not sure what I expected, but this wasn’t it. She and her baby are not stereotypes.

  She later returns from the bathroom with the baby. I offered to hold him while she fixes his bottle, but she refused my help. I notice she’s very protective of her son, something many homeless drug addicts aren’t. Something doesn’t add up. Maybe she isn’t a homeless drug addict. She feeds him formula and he eats eagerly. We both order salads, cheeseburgers, and French fries for our dinner.

  I try to get her to talk to me about her circumstances and she refuses. I talk about myself, Momma, and Pops. I figure she will get bored and tell me something just to shut me up. I tell her about Savannah Mae and Sawyer Jackson, and the small rural area we live. Rose Farm is enough to bore anyone.

  She says, “You don’t talk with a country accent.”

  I explain that I left home years ago. I tell her I didn’t want to stay on a farm in the country. “I never liked country life until I went back home. Then I saw what I’ve been missing. Momma makes the best pie of anyone in Southeast Ohio. She even won the “Perry County Best Pie Contest” three years in a row,” I lie, proudly. She never entered that contest, but if she did, she would win it every year, hands down, as long as the contest is based on taste, not on looks.

  “Now you sound all kinds of country,” she says, laughing. I noticed her perfectly white, straight teeth.

  “You can take the man out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the man.”

  “It sounds like you’re forever country.”

  “I guess I am.” I watch her eat and I also watch her baby sleep. “What brings you to the streets of New York?” I say, bluntly.