Chad’s face challenged her. Cheri saw it and insisted Willow take her turn. “You have to keep going while you’ve got your rhythm.”
Chris nodded emphatically. “It’ll take you half a game to get back in the groove. Switch sides and play again.”
Chad won twenty-one to fourteen. By the end of the game, Willow’s confidence soared and she managed to hold off game point with several points before he sent a slice right under her paddle. “Yes!”
“Good game!” She handed the paddle to Cheri and pointed to the stairs. “Do you mind if I go get a drink of water?”
“No, sure! Want me to get it for you?”
She shook her head and started for the steps. “Chad, do you want more orange juice or water or something?”
“Juice would be good, thanks.”
Willow glanced at Chris and Cheri. “Drinks? Juice…” Their shaking heads answered for them.
She was half way up the stairs before Chad jerked his head at Chris. “Go make sure Mom doesn’t pounce, will you?”
In the kitchen, Willow reached for another cup and frowned. Chris watched, amazed and slightly disgusted, as Willow glanced in the trash, saw Chad’s cup still sitting on top, and retrieved it. He started to protest, but she grabbed a bottle of dish soap from the counter, read the label, read the back of the label, and smiled to herself. Seconds later, a freshly washed and dry disposable cup filled with juice sat on the counter.
She washed her own juice cup, filled with water, and started to drink but Chris stopped her. “Wait. You don’t want to drink from the tap. It’s nasty chlorinated stuff. This little spigot has filtered water.”
Willow watched as he filled her cup with the approved substance and smiled. “Drinking water here. Washing—”
“Tap.”
“If it’s not good to drink, why is it ok to wash with it? Residue—”
“Well, the tap water won’t hurt you,” Chris explained. “It just tastes awful, because they put the chlorine in it to kill bacteria.”
He’d watched her for almost an hour and Willow fascinated him. As a psychologist, she represented an unstudied section of humanity. He knew nothing of people who lived cloistered from society. She reminded him of studies of Amish children who entered the “English” world, and yet unlike the defectors, she wasn’t racing to embrace the world around her. Instead, she rather seemed intrigued by it.
“So…” he stopped. How does one begin a conversation with someone whose entrance into what some might consider “real life” began with the death of her only other human contact?
“Is there something you want to know but feel awkward asking?”
“I wasn’t sure how to strike up a conversation, and then once I did, I found myself inserting my foot into my mouth.” Willow’s glance at Chris’ dock shoes amused him. “That’s just a saying. You know, ‘open mouth, insert foot.’”
“ Mother always said that if you want to have friends, you must be friendly. That’s probably why we never had any friends. We weren’t very friendly.” Before he could ask if she felt that his question was unfriendly, she said, “So I don’t see how asking a friendly question would be worthy of stuffing a sock in your mouth.”
So, she knew “stuff a sock in it.” Interesting. “Well, you seem friendly enough to me.”
Her laughter brought Marianne and Christopher in from the den where they were waiting for the beginning of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade. “Come in guys, it’s about to start.”
Willow held up Chad’s cup. “I’ll be right there. I promised Chad some more juice, and then I’ll come right back. To Chris she smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry. I think my joke failed.”
“I’ll take that to Chad. Go ahead and get a good seat while you can. Uncle Ed will be here any minute, and you never know where he’ll park himself.”
Downstairs, Chris handed Chad his cup of juice, waited until Chad took a big gulp, and informed him of its origin. “Why did she pull that cup from the trash?”
Chad spewed the contents of his mouth all over Chris’ RU sweatshirt. “She did what!”
“She washed it of course, but—”
“Chris!” Even the parade observers upstairs should have heard Chad’s protest.
“But why did she take it out of the garbage in the first place?”
Chad studied the cup warily. “She washed it? Are you sure?”
“I watched her. She went into the kitchen, walked straight for the trashcan, pulled it out, read the soap bottle—who reads soap bottles anyway—and then washed it, dried it, and refilled it.”
A shout from downstairs sent six eyes rolling. Cheri groaned. “The parade is starting. We can’t miss another five hundred tissue paper-covered vehicles.”
Chad paused as he brushed by his brother. “Sorry about your shirt, man.”
“Where are you going in such a hurry?”
“I have a chance to watch Willow watch a parade for the first time? No way am I missing a second of that.”
The doorbell rang. “Get that, will you, Cheri?”
The remaining Tesdall siblings exchanged amused glances as Chad hurried up the stairs. “Yep. This is going to be interesting,” Cheri declared.
From across the room, Chad watched Willow wilt. A constant stream of questions bombarded her from all sides. Uncle Ed delighted in asking her questions that they all knew she couldn’t answer. Libby tried to buffer them, but excitement over Luke’s impending engagement distracted her. Chuck and Cheri battled over Stratego and music genres, while Chad’s grandparents “enjoyed” their ritual sparring in between peppering Willow with questions about life on the farm.
The clock chimed the half hour. He glanced at his watch and made a decision. Dinner wasn’t for another hour and a half. It was time to take Willow away from the house for a little bit. Marianne passed on her way to the kitchen and Chad stopped her. “Do you need anything from the store? Willow needs a break. She’s getting overloaded.”
“I forgot margarine for Grandma. You know how she’ll complain. I was going to send Chris, but—”
“We’ll get it.”
His uncle started a new round of questioning. “Uncle Ed,” he interrupted abruptly. “Mom needs something from the store, and I thought Willow might like the drive.”
“Get me some Maalox will you? Your mother’s stuffing always does me in.”
“Maalox. Got it. Willow, you want to come?”
The grateful look on her face was all the answer he needed. They bundled back into their coats and hurried outside. Immediately, Willow took a deep breath. “I love fresh air.”
“It’s city air, Willow. It’s not that fresh!”
“Compared to inside—” she paused. “That’s probably not a polite thing to say, is it?”
“It’s honest anyway,” Chad reassured her. “Let’s go.”
She watched him navigate the streets for a moment before remarking, “I don’t see how you can tell where you’re going. The houses all look alike; the streets all look alike!”
“Well, the streets have different names you know,” he teased as he turned onto Chester Blvd.
Within minutes, he parked in front of his father’s store and led Willow inside. “This is the store dad manages,” he explained as he led her down the bread aisle toward the cold cases in the back of the store.
After a few feet, Willow stood and stared at the dozens of bread options. Her eyes blurred at the sheer volume of food. Jars upon jars of jams, jellies, and preserves flanked the breads, bagels, English muffins, buns, and rolls. Peanut butter jars lined the other side. She counted eleven brands, three sizes per brand, and forced herself to stop when she realized that each brand and size came in crunchy and creamy as well as some in other options.
“What’s wrong?”
“There’s so much food! Look at all the bread! Mother told me about supermarkets, but this is incredible. It’s like J.C. Penney and their skirts but it’s bread. That’s a lot of peanut butter!�
�
Two pre-teen girls passed them, giggling and staring. Chad pulled her arm gently toward the back wall. “The butter is back here. C’mon.”
The back wall of dairy products assaulted her senses as well. Gallons upon gallons of milk, cream, half and half, and all related products seemed to stare at her from the cases. “I’ve never imagined—”
Chad stared at her, confused. “It’s not as big as this or anything, but the market in Fairbury…”
“I’ve never been inside. Is it like this?”
He nodded. “It’s wonderful isn’t it?” In one place, everything you need to keep you fed and healthy.”
Willow wandered down the back aisles staring at boxes of cake mix, stuffing mix, canned pumpkin, canned cranberry sauce, marshmallows… the list was endless. The meat counter looked like a sea of red and white meats, sausages, and fish. “Look at all the—” Her eyes found the meat cold case and widened. “More!”
All through the store, she wandered the aisles until she reached the produce section. “Oh, wow. Wow!”
Light fingers trailed across lettuce, spinach, celery, and tomatoes. Awestruck, she picked up eggplant, zucchini, and asparagus. “How?”
“Produce is shipped from all over the country and even the world.”
The aisle of medications and hygiene sent her mind reeling. “All of this is for what?”
She picked up a bottle of pain reliever. Several competitor bottles announced that their product solved all of life’s pains and aches. Bottles and boxes announced relief of constipation, indigestion, coughs, sneezing, dry eyes, and toothaches. Vitamins filled shelves assuring her that she’d be healthier and live longer if she just took their little pills.
“What—”
Chad grabbed a bottle of Maalox and steered her to the checkout stand. “Uncle Ed can’t digest mom’s stuffing.”
“Then why does he eat it?”
The cashier failed to stifle a snort. “Well, I don’t know. I guess because he likes it.”
“But if it makes him need this stuff,” she poked the bottle just as the checker swiped it across the scanner. “Is food worth it? There are other things that he likes to eat, surely!”
Stella glanced at Chad. “Well, Chad, she has a point.”
“You know him?” Willow’s voice was filled with surprise.
“Sure. His dad is my boss and the ogre who makes me work on Thanksgiving!”
Compassion filled Willow’s face. “I’m sorry. That’s terrible! I didn’t think about it, but working on Thanksgiving—that’s terrible!”
“Just joking. I always ask for Thanksgiving. I get triple time and my family is too far away to visit so why not?”
“Triple time? That’s even worse!”
Chad nudged her amused and winked at Stella. “That means she makes three times more per hour than usual.”
As they walked to Chad’s truck, Willow wondered aloud. “What do people do with all the time they save? If they’re not growing food, baking their bread, and canning the food they grow, then why doesn’t everyone have more time?”
“I guess they’re working to be able to afford to pay someone else to do that for them.”
“I think I’m supposed to be amazed,” she began, “but I can’t help but think that it’s sad somehow.”
Chapter Fifty-One
The family seemed to erupt in cheers, hugging one another as Willow and Chad entered. “Well, I’m glad you’re happy to see us but—” Chad began.
“Luke’s engaged! Aggie said yes! He’s coming back late tonight with video footage of the proposal,” Cheri squealed excitedly.
Libby beamed at Willow. “I’m going to be an instant grandma all over again! Can you stay and watch it with us tomorrow?”
“Yeah!” Cheri’s enthusiasm infected them all. “After the guys get back from their shopping frenzy, we can have pizza and tease Luke!”
Seeing the uncertainty in Willow’s eyes, Libby thought she understood. “Oh, how silly of me. Chad’s here. He can’t take care of the animals if you’re not home. I’ll find a way to bring it to you.”
Chad pulled Willow aside. “Judith or Joe—even Martinez would go out and make sure the animals had water and food. I know they would. Do you want to stay overnight and see the tape?”
“I couldn’t ask—”
“Look, if you had to milk the goat, I wouldn’t have suggested it, but anyone can sprinkle feed for chickens and dump some alfalfa for goats and sheep and a cow.”
Chad’s grandmother passed by saying, “Well if Aggie knows what’s good for her, she’ll renege and run. Misery. She’s asking for misery.”
Willow’s patience with the constant berating and negativity was gone. “I think that’s a horrible thing to say.” She said coolly, and to Chad’s ears, with terrifying calmness. “Luke is a good man and will cherish her.”
Silence descended over the room. Everyone waited for Grandmother Tesdall to pounce. Misery welled in Willow’s heart. She hadn’t meant to say what she thought aloud. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Tesdall. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“But you think it,” the irascible woman countered.
“Yes, but thinking something doesn’t give us the right to be rude, and I’m sorry.”
“You don’t like me very much, do you?”
Willow heard a few gasps and blushed. “Actually, I don’t know you. I don’t like the way you talk to your husband, though, and I don’t think you know Luke very well if you think Aggie would be better off without him.”
Chad felt like sinking into the floor. His grandmother would explode. But to everyone’s surprise, she laughed. “I like you, girl. You’ve got spunk.” She turned to Chad and said, “Keep this one. She’s worth a hundred of the princesses out there.”
Grandpa Tesdall paused beside her and kissed Willow’s cheek as he followed his wife into the living room. She laid a hand on his arm and smiled into his eyes. “Mr. Tesdall, try kindness. I think it’ll gentle her. Someone somewhere said something that made her feel weak or foolish for being proud of her husband, and she’s just protecting herself.”
Cheri hurried to where Chad and Willow discussed something in hushed tones. “Hey, is he convincing you to stay?”
“Well—”
“Oh come on, you’ve never had a slumber party! We can so do it! I’ll give you a facial; we’ll roll our hair, and watch the chickiest chick flicks I can find.”
“Chris, can I come home with you?” Chad wailed with mock horror.
“No way bro, you’re staying.” To Willow she added, “We’ll torture him. It’ll be great.”
The constant ribbing of sibling relationships, so utterly foreign, fascinated her. Their banter bordered on vicious, but a deep closeness and obvious love overrode any unflattering impressions. “Chad’s my ride. If he’s staying, I’m staying.”
Chad grinned. “I’ll call Judith.”
Chuck pulled Cheri from the room and down to the basement. “Ok, what gives? You’ve been taking pictures of them all day and now you’re pushing her to stay.”
Cheri’s smile lit up her face hiding the slight scar along her upper lip. “I want to see if I’m right—and I am—and pictures are for proving things to those who are a little resistant to the idea.”
“Blackmail?”
Hooking her arm in his, Cheri climbed the stairs. “Kind of reverse blackmail. This helps the victim.”
“Willow, I’m going to go dress for dinner; come up and talk with me.”
Chad heard Cheri from the other side of the room but couldn’t catch Willow’s eyes quickly enough. Willow followed Cheri upstairs, taking her own tote bag with her. “Oh brother,” he muttered to himself.
Willow found Cheri’s room fascinating. The walls were plastered with travel posters and overlapping those, were prayer cards of missionaries from that area. India had missionaries in Mumbai, Delhi, Thane, Jaipur, and Agra. As she spun in a circle, she saw posters of Peru, Cambodia, South Africa, and New G
uinea.
“You want to travel.”
“Sort of—I want to be a traveling missionary kid tutor.”
Impressed but clueless, Willow asked the obvious question. “What exactly do you do as a traveling missionary tutor?”
“Well, I want to serve missionary families instead of serving as a missionary. So, I want to travel to different families and help with their kids’ education. So many of these families home school—it’s not like they have a choice—but life can be exhausting enough as a missionary without adding more to it. I just want to come help and give mom and dad a rest while I tackle the humps their kids can’t get over.”
“That sounds wonderful! Is there an organization that you go through, or—”
“I don’t know. I haven’t looked that far yet. My job now is to get my education.”
Willow nodded appreciatively. “So how did you decide to do this?”
While Cheri changed for dinner, she told about her summer of persecution in high school and how it inspired her to want to serve in missions. “But I think I’d be best helping the families.”
“I can’t imagine that kind of experience stimulating a desire for me to risk that kind of persecution again.”
“It was awful. The constant pressure to recant, to deny the Lord, the hard labor, the sleeplessness, and the fear—”
“But they didn’t hurt you…” Willow hardly got the words out of her mouth.
“Not really. Just hard physical labor and sleep deprivation—some hunger but not too much. A few of the girls got propositioned, though. Offered an easier time for favors.”
“How did you escape?” Again, Willow found it impossible to hide her horror.
“You know where it says in first Corinthians that you won’t be tempted without a way of escape? Well, there was. One by one, we all got out and back to our homes. It changed all of us.”
Just hearing the story of the camp bus hijacking terrified Willow. “My mother moved from Rockland because of a horrible experience. People think she was wrong to protect—isolate us even—but I am glad. To endure something like that—”
Past Forward- A Serial Novel: Volume 2 Page 12