by Amanda Tru
Jeff finished petting Leif and stood. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She nodded. “Looking forward to it.”
As he walked away, she looked at the kitchen door. The ten-minute break made her want to stop for the day. But she had beans in jars inside the canners waiting for heat. “Back to it,” she said to Noah. “Why don’t you go pick us three ears of corn for dinner? Remember how I taught you to check them?”
He looked at the garden then at her. “There are bugs in the corn. Spiders and bees.”
With a serious expression, she nodded. “There are. They want the bounty, too.”
“What if one gets me?”
“I imagine it will cause quite the ruckus.”
“Mom! Why do I have to?” He scowled, and his lip pouted out. Maintaining her serious face, she cupped his face with both of her hands and stared into his eyes.
“Because I only have one son. I’m afraid it has to fall to you. But I know you’re brave and you want to help. So I know I can count on you.”
He stormed away and stomped over to the edge of the garden. She watched as he stopped at a row of corn and crossed his arms over his chest. She knew he would eventually go into the corn, but it would take him several minutes to work up the courage.
Noah had a lot of phobias. She hated making him face them, but if she gave in to them, allowed him to give in to them all the time every time, eventually, he would never want to leave the house. He had to learn how to cope with his fears and confront them, and know he would survive them. She taught him, slowly, gently, over the last few years. He’d gotten much better.
When she opened the back door, she looked back and saw he’d moved two steps closer to the corn but hadn’t yet entered the row. Confident that he eventually would, she went into the kitchen and turned the burners back on.
While the pressure canners heated, she sliced zucchini, onions, and eggplant and seasoned them. She set that tray aside and pulled a package of portabella mushrooms out of the fridge. After wiping them down, she sliced them and put them on the tray with the home-grown vegetables. Once she had rice going in the rice cooker, she went back outside. With the evening breeze, it actually felt cooler out there now than in the kitchen.
Gloria lit the grill and waited for it to heat up. She couldn’t see Noah, but Leif danced up and down outside of the corn row. About ten seconds later, he came running out like he had a wolf on his heels, clutching corn to his chest. Leif danced all around him, tongue hanging out, loving this game. He ran all the way up onto the patio, then bent over, still clutching the corn, panting.
“I… saw… some… bugs,” he panted.
“Bugs are good things, son. Remember how we talked about how that little patch of dirt over there is a delicate ecosystem. Bugs help pollinate, help the soil, eat bad bugs and such.”
He straightened. A line of sweat fell from his temple down the side of his face. “I know that. It’s why I left them alone and closed my eyes and picked the corn super-fast.” He dumped it on the patio. Leif immediately pounced, smelling all around it, tail wagging. “I hope you’re happy.”
Knowing he’d faced about six different fears, she didn’t mention nor correct his tone. “I am so very happy and incredibly proud of you. I knew you could do it. I just hope, really, that this corn is ripe.”
He pressed his lips together and nodded. “Me, too,” he said on a breath, “‘cause I’m not getting any more.” He then rushed back out into the yard. “Come on, Leif! Come on, boy.”
Only when he couldn’t see her anymore did she allow herself to grin. She watched her son bounding away with Leif running circles around him. When he ran, Noah very much reminded her of his father. But he wasn’t his father. God had just given her son a strong frame and an athlete’s stamina. Even at eight, she could see it.
As she felt her heart filling with love for Noah, she also felt her heart break a little bit for Jeff. She could not imagine the pain of losing his daughter. Katrina would be just a year younger than Noah, today, had she lived. Yet, she had never felt like Noah made Jeff uncomfortable in any way. Not even once.
“Thank you, God,” Gloria prayed. “Thank you for giving me this special boy. And thank you for letting me meet Jeff., too. Keep your eye on us, Father. Amen.”
Jeff stepped out onto his porch, carrying the hamburger he’d made for himself, and settled into a rocking chair. Blondie emerged from the barn and casually strolled across the yard, then went back into her barn-cave. After her surgery, he’d tried to keep her inside, but she had whimpered and whined at the door the entire time. Instead, she slept in the caved-in barn. Blondie’s insistence on sleeping in there every night was the only reason Jeff hadn’t had it demolished and removed, yet.
He faced the tree line and thought about Gloria. Showing up unannounced this evening had startled her this evening. He’d enjoyed seeing her in the midst of canning in that steaming kitchen, all pretense stripped away, feet muddy from going barefoot into the garden. Knowing her, by ten tonight, her kitchen would no longer show signs of her day’s activities other than the rows upon rows of filled mason jars he’d seen lining her kitchen table. She would have put everything away, mopped the floor, and gone to bed to wake up to a perfectly ordered kitchen. And, he imagined, plans to do it all again today.
She’d told him that when most of the garden came in, she took the week off of work to can, freeze, and dry. All summer, he’d watched her work blackberries, blueberries, peaches, apples, and tomatoes. It fascinated him, the ease she showed in performing these tasks her grandmother’s grandmother would have performed. He had absolutely no experience with such things. His grandmother’s grandmother was a perfectly respectable city wife of an acclaimed physician just north of Philadelphia. The closest he had ever come to homegrown vegetables was the Louisville farmer’s market.
His mind drifted to tomorrow night. Growing up in a large city, the idea of a first date at a local performing arts center struck him as quaint. He should have come up with something different. What else did people do for fun in rural Cooper County, Kentucky? Another time in his life and with another woman, he would have suggested a weekend trip to Louisville, maybe hit up the Fourth Street Live scene, and shared a hotel room downtown. Somehow, he didn’t think Gloria Sutton would find that as entertaining as the local PAC and a nice meal at Luttazzi’s.
Blondie sauntered out of the collapsed barn again. This time, she rushed over and onto the porch. She sat right in front of Jeff and stared at his hamburger with rapt attention. He raised an eyebrow and said, “Dogs don’t like hamburgers.”
She whined under her breath as if engaged in a debate and inched closer to him. “No,” he said in a stern voice. “No begging. I’ll feed you inside.”
As if she understood him, she rushed to the door and wagged her tail. He laughed as he put the last of the burger in his mouth and stood up. When he opened the door, she ran inside and went straight to her rarely used bed.
Jeff went into the kitchen and filled her food bowl, and made sure she had fresh water. When he went back into the front room, he watched as her eyes drooped closed. “You haven’t been in that bed since your surgery,” he remarked. She gently wagged her tail and kept her eyes closed. “Does this mean I can tear down the barn?”
Stubbornly, Blondie refused to answer him.
Gloria swirled the wine in her glass and propped her chin in her hand. “Aren’t your parents big shot doctors in Louisville?”
“Meh.” Jeff chuckled. The candlelight reflected in his eyes. “They’re good doctors and respected in their fields. I think they are the few who would agree with the term big shot.” He picked up his cup of coffee and sat back in his chair.
“So, what do they think of you moving to Charula? I’m sure internal medicine at U of L doesn’t really compare to small-town family practice doctor.”
He sighed. “I think they’re happy I’m alive again.” He took a sip of his coffee. “They’d be willing to trade all of th
e titles and accolades if it meant I could be happy again.” He shook his head and smiled. “I can’t believe how much Blondie has done for me. If you were anyone but you, I don’t even know if I would talk about it. She asked to come in yesterday and spent the night inside. It was nice.”
Gloria processed what transpired. “You understand that she was in a period of mourning, too. Her master disappeared. His home was ripped up and changed, and all of her familiar smells got removed. All of her puppies left. The only thing that remained the same was that old fallen-in barn. I think she had to get to the point that she was no longer waiting for your uncle to come home.”
“That’s good insight, doctor.”
“Well, I reckon it’s not internal medicine at Louisville, but Blondie is my patient, you know. And I’m her doctor. We do what we can out here in the country.”
He chuckled at her intentionally exaggerated drawl and looked at his watch. “If we want to make the play, I’m afraid we have to leave now.”
She set her unfinished wine next to the plate and stood. “I know a couple people in this one. It should be fun.”
“Good.” His grin made her heart flip inside her chest. “I’m glad.”
They left the restaurant and walked the two blocks to the performing arts center. Gloria noticed the fall decorations in the windows of the businesses as they walked by. “This is really my favorite time of year,” she said, looking up at him.
“Autumn? When you’re taking off of work and spending the day preserving food in your kitchen?”
With a grin, she hooked her arm in his. “Definitely. I look forward to the harvest all year long. I also love the autumn decorations coming out. School starting, Thanksgiving, leading to Christmas.”
“I used to love it.” His grin faded a bit. “Now, I dread the onset of winter.”
She glanced up at him. “I, too, associate the winter months with the loss of my marriage.” She hesitated. “Obviously, it’s not the same thing.”
The old-fashioned marquee above the entrance announced the Sherlock Holmes play. Jeff paused before walking to the door. He turned around and faced her, putting his hands on her shoulders. “I think a shared loss is something we have in common, something that brings us together, even though our experiences are different.”
She stared up at his face. The setting sun put highlights of red in his hair. “You are a rather wise man, are you not, Doctor Brock?”
He chuckled. “Well, we do what we can out here in the country.” Turning again, they walked to the door. He held it open, and she preceded him inside. People milled around in the lobby, talking, looking around at everyone. Some people wore jeans, some wore Sunday best. Gloria looked at Jeff in his dark blue jeans, a seafoam colored button-down shirt, and the blue sports coat. She’d worn a dark blue summer dress covered in bright pink and green tropical flowers and a pair of brown sandals—the same outfit she wore when speaking to the women’s conference. They looked like they had intentionally matched outfits. She liked the way they paired well.
“Do you want some popcorn or candy? Something to drink?” Jeff asked as they walked past the snack bar.
“I think I don’t want to mess up the flavors in my mouth after that wonderful dinner,” she replied. She waved at a couple of people she knew but did not approach them.
He grinned and put a hand on the small of her back. “I like the way you said that. I might have to take you there again.”
“I would have no objection to eating there every night for the rest of my life.” She patted her waist. She’d never been thin. Even as a teenager with zero body fat, she’d been compact, with a thicker waist than she liked. Motherhood had added inches. If only those inches had happened vertically instead of horizontally. “Of course, I’d have to be rolled around if I did.”
He laughed. “You and me both.”
As they moved down the rows until they found their seats, she continued to wave and grin at people she knew. As they sat down, he remarked, “Small town vet. You probably have clients all over this theater.”
“You do, too. You just don’t recognize them all yet.” He handed her the program he’d received on the way into the theater, and she turned it over to the list of cast members. “Look.” Out of the cast listed, she recognized the names of twelve people and knew she’d recognize even more faces than that. “This time next year, you’ll be able to do the same thing. I love living here.”
The lights dimmed, and a spotlight appeared on the stage. A man in a gray suit with a pink bowtie appeared from behind the closed curtain. “Good evening! Welcome to the Cooper County Performing Arts Center!”
Gloria settled into her seat and leaned back with a smile on her face. She loved coming here and seeing the productions. She loved bringing Noah, too. He’d always responded well to live performances. She thought it had to do with the lack of a soundtrack and thundering surround sound. Plays provided more story and less overwhelming sensory input.
Tonight, though, she really enjoyed sitting next to Jeff and watching the performance. She thought him picking a local play as a first date was a great beginning move. Since he’d chosen Sherlock Holmes, it gave her the impression that they probably enjoyed some of the same things; murder mysteries, old movies, or the like.
He’d come over to her house regularly for a few weeks. He and her dad had become good friends. The more time she spent with him, the more time she wanted to spend with him.
As the play ended, she clapped enthusiastically, very proud of her little town’s production.
“They did a good job,” Jeff said, smiling.
“Agreed. I loved it.”
They stood and started making their way down the aisle. “Gloria! Hey!”
Hearing her name, she looked and saw Tanya waving at her from three rows back. At five-six, her best friend had six inches on her in height, a lean dancer’s body, and straight brown hair that always went obediently into the tight bun required for ballet. Gloria had tried ballet for a while, but she just never really enjoyed it on the scale of Tanya. Her friend had danced professionally until a misplaced step broke a small bone in her foot and grounded her. Now she ran the local dance studio. Gloria knew from looking at the program that she had several students in the production. Darling Dance and the Cooper County PAC often worked closely together.
Gloria waved back and gestured toward her as she and Jeff walked up the aisle. “I’d like to introduce you to someone,” she said.
Tanya maneuvered her two nieces out into the aisle and stopped next to Gloria. “I thought I saw you. I didn’t realize you were coming tonight.”
They hugged, and Gloria hooked her arm through Jeff’s. “I didn’t know until yesterday. Tanya this is Jeff Brock. Jeff, Tanya Darling, my best friend since I moved here in high school.”
Jeff held out his hand, and Tanya took it in both of hers. “I can’t believe you’ve lived here since May, and I’m just now meeting you.”
“Gloria and Arnold regularly mention you. I’ve looked forward to meeting you in person.”
Gloria watched Tanya’s cheeks flush red. “Tanya owns the dance company two doors down. If there had been any choreography in this show, she would have been backstage instead of in the audience.”
“Really? Interesting. I really enjoy seeing choreography at work. I’m a fan of the old musicals.”
“Oh? What’s your favorite?”
He pursed his lips. “Probably West Side Story.”
Gloria knew Tanya had met a kindred spirit. She wondered if the uncomfortable feeling in the base of her stomach was a touch of jealousy. Seriously? For her best friend? She refused to give in to such a negative emotion, relieved when Jeff looked down at her. “Ready?”
She smiled and nodded, then hugged Tanya, who whispered in her ear, “You better call me tonight, girlfriend.”
Laughing, Gloria looked up at Jeff. “Ready,” she said.
They slowly walked out of the theater. In the lobby, cast members mingle
d with family and friends, took pictures, received bouquets of flowers. As they stepped outside, she said, “Musicals, huh?”
Jeff’s laughter floated out into the late summer air. “I know. I’m hardly the type.”
“I thought you were like me, mysteries, film noir. I never would have put you in the musical category.”
“I like lots of different styles of plays. I enjoyed this one very much, and there was nothing musical about it.”
They strolled down the road to where he parked his car. “What about books?”
He smirked. “You mean medical articles, journals, my Bible, Bible studies?” He sighed and slipped his hands into his pockets. “I am afraid my fiction reading gets set way to the side. I honestly can’t remember the last book I read.” He glanced down at her. “What about you?”
She shrugged. “I love reading. Romance, mystery, historical fiction. I listen to audiobooks on the days I drive out to farms. Lots of time in the truck.”
They reached his car, and he opened the passenger door for her. As he got in and she fastened her seatbelt, she said, “I am really glad you asked me out.”
“Me, too.” He pulled out onto the street, and they rode in silence for a few minutes before he said. “We should do it again. The fair starts on Monday. Would you like to go? Maybe you and Noah?”
And Noah? Was she ready for that? It wasn’t like he didn’t know “Dr. Jeff” but she didn’t know if she was ready to be a couple and include Noah. “I don’t know how he’d do. I don’t normally take him to the fair because I’m afraid he’ll wander off. He’s prone to that, and it’s a rather chaotic environment.” She pursed her lips. “Why don’t Noah and I come to your house after church tomorrow? You always come to ours, and this will give him a chance to hang out with Blondie, and it will be a different environment than my home. It will be an adventure for him.”