We begin to talk about how we — and some celebrities — met our significant others.
Johnny’s mom says, “My mom got Johnny’s daddy and me together. I was 16 and had never dated and was sure that I would be alone forever since all my friends had had second dates. My mom picked me up after school and noticed a boy that she had seen at our church, and the next time she picked me up she noticed the same boy. I was late getting to the car, so my mom got out and talked to the boy and showed him some photos of me and told him lots of things about me. The next day, we met at school and the first thing he said was ‘Your mom said that we should date. Wanna go to a movie?’ We’ve been together ever since. When I asked my mom why she did this, she told me, ‘He goes to our church, and he has a cute butt.’”
Mark’s wife, Nichole, says, “Everyone has a funny story from their lives, including celebrities. Actress Helen Hayes met her husband, playwright Charles MacArthur, at a party. He offered her some peanuts, she took a few, and then he said, ‘I wish they were emeralds.’“
Rick says, “Country singer Garth Brooks met his first wife when he was workin’ as a bouncer. She got in a fight with another woman about a man, and her fist got stuck in a hole she made in a bathroom wall while throwin’ a punch. Garth had to help her get free from the wall.”
Today was a great day for the guys at the shop and for the business. Mr. Beatty assured me that he has enough work to keep the guys busy and the shop in business for years. This is good news. Actually, this is great news. Things in Rose Farm are looking up and it feels good to be a part of it. Poverty isn’t as prevalent as it once was, due to people working, and as a result people are happier and have a better quality of life. It feels good that changing the old schoolhouse into something productive is the reason for this.
Sawyer Jackson and Harley are the only two children at the table. Sawyer Jackson plays with him and Harley laughs loudly. Sawyer Jackson is no longer freaked by the smallness of Harley’s hands. I laugh to myself as I wonder if my baby will freak him out because of his small size.
“What are you smilin’ at?” Savannah Mae asks.
“Life,” I answer honestly.
Over the next month, Savannah Mae and I move into the new house: a log cabin like she had sketched in her sketchpad. Almost exactly like she sketched, it’s a bit larger. She wanted to help move our things from her house into the log cabin. But with our mother’s persistence, she’s agreed to let the guys move everything from the old house and she and the girls will put everything in their rightful places in the new house.
She’s getting big and is due in just a few weeks. Mia and Levi are letting us use the handmade wooden baby cradle that Momma and Pops bought them for Harley. Ethan and Kevin made it and Pops bought it even before they knew of Mia’s pregnancy. It was Momma’s idea; she wanted something that could be passed down and used for each of her grandbabies, generation after generation.
Savannah Mae offered the house we moved out of to Ethan. She thought that since she and Ethan bought the house together, she should offer it back to him. Because of this, she never let me pay the house off. To my surprise, he didn’t want the house. I don’t know if it’s because that’s where their marriage ended, or if it’s because it’s where our marriage began and I shared the house with her and his son. Savannah Mae then offered to rent the house to her sister, Samantha Marie, who gladly accepted. The only rent she expects her sister to pay is to take over the house payment, which is far less than what rent would normally cost.
That night, I start our first fire in the wood-burning fireplace in our log cabin. Savannah Mae makes some homemade spiced, cinnamon apple cider on the kitchen stove. The cider smells delicious, and it tastes as delicious as it smells. Good people go to Paradise after they die, and all of us get tastes of Paradise while we are still alive if we are alert enough to recognize them. It’s not always tastes, of course. Sometimes, it’s sounds. For lots of people, Conway Twitty, George Jones, and Jana Kramer provide irrefutable evidence that Paradise exists. Momma used to make this cider years ago when Levi and I were little. It’s a memory that I’ll never forget. The aroma takes me back to my childhood.
It was Halloween night and we were going trick or treating as a family. Momma filled a thermos full with the delicious beverage, cooked, and then cooled to a lukewarm temperature. Pops loaded the back of the pickup truck with candy for Momma to pass out and we drove down the steep driveway where he would park the pickup. While Momma walked around with Levi and me, Pops stayed at the pickup truck and passed out the candy to the neighborhood kids. Since we lived high on a hill, we never got trick or treaters on the farm. Too far of a walk for such a small reward.
We all dressed up as a theme family for trick or treat. Since our costumes were handmade, we never got the cool store-bought costumes from characters in Return of the Jedi or The Wizard of Oz — except for the scarecrow. This year we dressed up as scarecrows. It was an easy and cheap costume to make and Momma smiled brightly at all of the compliments we got from each and every house we visited. We were very fortunate; some of the neighborhood kids just put on some makeup and used an old pillow sheet right off of their bed to put their candy in.
When we got tired or thirsty, we would stop and drink some of her homemade warm apple cider. We got lots of apples back then instead of candy. I didn’t know it back then, but we got apples because apple trees were in abundance, and it was cheaper to pick the apples opposed to buying expensive bags of candy. Back then, you didn’t worry about candy or the apples being tampered with. Nowadays, the hospitals will x-ray your candy for free to make sure it’s safe to eat. I’m sorry to think that trick or treating may become a thing of the past.
It’s been years since I thought about those days. It took Savannah Mae and her apple cider to jog those memories from deep inside. Sawyer Jackson and I sit on the floor in front of the fireplace playing checkers and drinking the delicious beverage from the snowflake-decorated coffee mugs. Savannah Mae sits on the rocker, reading a book on parenting. She rocks slowly, one hand holding the book, the other hand gently caressing her swollen belly, which contains my baby, my son. This is my life and I couldn’t be happier.
As she gets further along in her pregnancy, I spend more time at the shop helping and assisting with sales. Savannah Mae spends more time in the office, off her feet, balancing the books and doing payroll. Her experience working at Peaches Place has taught her a lot about money and bookkeeping. While working as a waitress, she also helped out in the office, doing bookkeeping from time to time.
Sawyer Jackson plays outside, spends time in the workshop, and runs in and out of the shop on some days. Momma or Savannah Mae’s mom keeps him from time to time. It all depends. Harley spends a lot of time there as well. Savannah Mae’s already talking about bringing the baby to work with her, too. Normally this isn’t good practice, but in Rose Farm it makes perfect sense. Why hire a babysitter if you don’t have to?
Watching Savannah Mae, I can see her shirt move on its own accord. I walk over to her and place my hand on her belly to feel the baby’s kicks. “That’s him doing this?”
“It is.”
“His kicks are strong.” My eyes widen as I watch his foot glide across her belly.
She arches her back to give the baby more room. “There’s no room for kicks. Now he just stretches his legs and his foot just kind of slides.”
I watch her and I wonder if it hurts. Sawyer Jackson also comes over and feels the baby’s movements.
“When do I get to see ’im?” Sawyer Jackson asks.
“In a few more weeks,” I answer.
“Or less,” Savannah Mae adds calmly.
I quickly look up at her. “Are you in labor?” My mind rushes with everything I’m supposed to do and where everything is at. The overnight bag, the baby’s bag, who to call first. Then I remember to breathe. Wait! The breathing isn’t for me, it’s for her to do to help keep her relaxed.
“What’s labor?” Sawyer
Jackson asks.
“It’s what happens when the baby’s ready to be born. And no, I’m not in labor.”
Whew, what a relief!
“The kid at the park said that babies come out of your butt, and that’s why he calls his sister butthead.”
I wanna laugh, but when I look at Savannah Mae, I know better. Savannah Mae furrows her brow and looks up at me. I’m the one who’s been watching Sawyer Jackson at the park, so… I guess this is my fault. “No, Buddy, that’s not where baby’s come out of, and it’s never a good idea to call anyone butthead.”
“I know. I told ’im that was bad and that baby’s come from your belly button, not your butt.”
This is still inaccurate, but it’s much better to think that a baby comes out of your belly opposed to coming out of your rectum.
Savannah Mae hides a laugh. “Can we not say ‘butt’? I don’t think this is a nice word to say.”
“Sorry, Momma. I’ll never call my baby brother names.”
I doubt that. I remember several names that Levi and I called each other growing up. And none of them were called with fondness.
I’m sure Savannah Mae and her sister never said a bad word or had a bad thought about the other one, ever. Growing up or now. I’m being sarcastic. Sisters can be pretty mean to each other, I’ve heard, at least when they are young. Girls are not as nice as some people think. When I was in kindergarten, during recess one of the boys said that girls don’t fart. A girl overheard him, knocked him down, sat on him, and farted.
Savannah Mae
Sawyer Jackson is so sweet to say he’ll never call his baby brother a name. I wish that were true. The names my sister and I called each other to our faces or behind our backs were terrible. If Mom and Daddy ever heard us, I know that they would have warshed our mouths out with soap.
When Abel Lee asked me if I was in labor, I said no. The truth is, it feels a lot like labor. I was sittin’ in the rocker tryin’ to read, but I was really timin’ how close apart the contractions were. Every time the baby moved, it hurt, and every time my belly would tighten up, it would hurt more than the last time.
Before bed, I bathe and shave my legs. Well, I shave the part I can reach. If it is labor, I ain’t gonna go to the hospital lookin’ unkept. I dry my hair and apply some mascara before goin’ to bed. I’m also not goin’ to the hospital and wait for hours for the baby to make his appearance. Abel Lee leans against the door frame with his hands crossed over his broad chest. His legs are crossed at the ankles. “Are you in labor?”
I don’t know. “No.” I have no idea. Maybe, but my water didn’t break yet. He watches me as I climb into bed.
“Do you think you could be in labor?”
Yeah, pretty sure I am. I pull the covers up to my chest. “There’s no way for me to tell until my water breaks, or there’s a bloody show, or the pain is unbearable. Until then, I won’t know for sure.”
“Should I put your overnight bag near the front door?”
Yeah, I would if I were you. “Might not be a bad idea.” I close my eyes and gently stroke my belly and count to ten. When the contraction is still there, I count to twenty. Countin’ helps me to keep track of how long the contraction is, and it also helps calm me, sometimes. Openin’ my eyes, I see Abel Lee is on the phone. He’s callin’ my Mom and Daddy, and then he calls his parents. He walks over, sits on the bed, and holds my hand. He calls Ethan to watch Sawyer Jackson and he calls my sister and Mia and Levi.
I have several more contractions while he’s on the phone. “All those calls you’re makin’ are nice, but do you think you could call the doctor?” I manage to say between contractions.
“Shit, I forgot. Calling him now.”
I breathe through the contractions and wonder why I waited so long. “Doctor, Savannah Mae’s in labor.” He pauses. “How far apart are your contractions?”
“Close.”
“They’re close.” He repeats in the phone. “Hold on. When did they start?”
“Earlier today. Noon maybe.” He glares at me and I close my eyes to count and breathe through the next contraction. This time I let out a moan. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Breathe. Nineteen. Twenty. Still there and stronger than ever. Twenty-one. Twenty-two…
“No, she’s not answering me. Okay, we’re leaving now.”
He walks over and swoops me into his arms. “We gotta go, and we gotta go now.”
“What about Sawyer Jackson?”
“We’re taking him to his dad’s.”
He carries me to the car, and I wait in pain as he gets Sawyer Jackson, my suitcase, and the baby’s bag. I try to concentrate on my breathin’, Sawyer Jackson, or the beautiful cool night, but nothin’ works. I can concentrate only on the pain. I think I may have waited too long to say I was in labor. I think about when Mia went into labor and how she delivered at home. I blow the horn to hurry Abel Lee up. Whatever it is, we can get it later. I remember how I panicked and it wasn’t until my sister arrived that I felt everything was going to be okay.
He hurries into the truck and we leave. Bud, Nelly, Mom, and Daddy are waitin’ for us at the end of the driveway. “Don’t stop.” I say.
“I think they should take Sawyer Jackson to Ethan’s house.”
“Good … thinking,” I say through gritted teeth. “Abel … Lee?”
“Yes.”
“You … need … to … hurry,” I say through labored and uneven breaths. “My… water… just… broke.”
Before Abel Lee gets out of the truck, Daddy opens the back door and lifts a sleepin’ Sawyer Jackson into his arms and says, “We’ll meet you there.”
“I need Samantha Marie to ride with us,” I say with my eyes closed when the contraction slows. If I have this baby in the truck, I want her here with me.
“I’m here, Sis,” she says as she climbs into the back seat. “Let’s go, Abel,” she adds as she closes the truck door. Abel Lee doesn’t say anything before he hurriedly pulls out onto the main road. She asks me yes-and-no questions that I can answer with a nod or a shake of my head. She knows the pain is unbearable and difficult to talk through. “Put your flashers on and pick up your speed, Abel. I’ll call the police and request an escort.”
“You can do that?”
“I hope so.”
We pull up at the hospital, I’m thankful for the police escort. I feel pressure as soon as I get on the gurney. Abel Lee is right behind me as we rush through the emergency doors. I have no idea where we’re goin’, but I am so thankful when I hear my doctor’s voice. “It’s … comin’,” I say through gritted teeth.
Within minutes, Abel Lee is liftin’ my head, and I tuck my chin to my chest as I’m told to push. I do. The baby comes quickly and when I hear it’s a girl, I open my eyes.
“What?” Abel Lee and I say in unison.
“It’s a girl.”
I hear cryin’ and I watch as they lift my baby and place her on my chest. I was told it was a boy, now I’m told it’s a girl, I need to see it to believe it. I get a good look at her before they lay her down and sure enough, it’s a girl. She’s pink, tiny, and beautiful. She has dark hair like Abel Lee’s.
“She’s beautiful,” I cry.
Abel Lee leans in and kisses me ever so sweetly. “We have a girl.”
“We have a daughter,” I confirm with another kiss.
“Thank you. She’s so beautiful. I can’t believe we have a daughter.”
“Do you have a name for your daughter?” a nurse asks.
“Yeah, it’s Stetson Lee.” I giggles. “Oh, my gosh. She has a bedroom with cowboy beddin’ and cowboy hats.”
“Did I tell you it was a boy?” the doctor asks, not lookin’ up.
Able Lee carefully touches our daughter’s tiny hand. Admirin’ our newly born daughter, I say, “You may have mentioned it.”
“You do know that doctors are human and we also make mistakes.”
“I’m not complaining. She’s beautiful, like her momma.”
Abel Lee watches our daughter yawn. He leans up and removes the hat that’s coverin’ her dark hair. “She’s so beautiful.” He looks at me and kisses me. “Thank you.”
“She is beautiful.” I lean up and kiss her before the nurse takes her to assess her. “We need a name for our princess.”
Abel Lee smiles. “I get to name her, right?”
I smile and rest my head back on the pillow. “You do. You said Rose is a family name?”
“It is. She’s our daughter, what about we both name her? We’ll keep Rose as a first or a middle name, and you can chose the other name to go with it.” He looks at the smile on my face. “You already have a name chosen, don’t you?”
“It’s just a name I had chosen for a backup.”
“A backup, huh?”
“Well, when you said Rose was a family name, I started thinkin’ of names that would complement it.”
He smiles. “Let me guess, it starts with an s?”
“Why as a matter of fact, Abel Lee, it does,” I say, usin’ my best country accent.
He laughs. “It’s not Sage, is it.”
The doctor chuckles.
“Don’t laugh down there. This is all your fault.” I giggle until I realize it hurts to laugh.
“Wouldn’t think of it, Savannah Mae. I’m almost done here.”
I look at Abel Lee. “No, it is not Sage.”
“Good. I love you, but I would have to put my foot down with that name.”
I know that if I wanted to name our daughter Sage, he would let me. “I was thinkin’….” I look over at our daughter cryin’ as they attend to her. “I was thinkin’ Scarlet Rose for our daughter.” I wipe away a tear and then a giggle escapes my mouth. “Maybe that’s too many shades of red.”
“Scarlet Rose?” He says it again and smiles. “I like it. I think our daughter, who we thought would be a son, deserves a beautiful name like Scarlet Rose.” He leans in and kisses me.
“All done here,” the doctor says. “If you’re up to it, you can start accepting visitors.”
“Savannah Mae, your sister would like to come in. Is it okay to send her in?” the nurse asks.
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