Tammy Fish's Blog, page 2

The Classics...

House built in 1735, North Kingston, Rhode Island  According to the comedian, John Branyan, Shakespeare possessed a workable vocabulary of 54,000 words compared to the average American's 3,000.  Now, in all fairness, William Shakespeare couldn't program a computer or even turn one on for that matter. But truthfully, life was different back then. Time the current culture fills with television and entertainment, the past filled with books and comradery and surviving plagues...

I just returned from a week visiting my family on the East Coast. Thankfully, I flew there in-between two snow storms and enjoyed amazing warm days filled with sunshine. I love it there.  I turn back the pages of time and remember life as it once was. ​Life in the days of the classics.  One day we traveled to a quaint little village in North Kingston, Rhode Island called Wickford. According to Wikipedia, the village contains the "largest collections of 18th century dwellings to be found anywhere in the northeast." History captured my imagination as I strolled by houses that were already dated at the time of the Revolutionary War.  If only the houses could speak and tell stories of their occupants.  Like an old man with a cane, the windows and walls bow with age. Step and post from the horse and carriage days. Remnants of the past linger on the streets where posts and steps remain from the horse and carriage days.  One house for sale showed a galley by the kitchen with a bed that pulled down from the wall. I imagine that bed was for the sick. With no indoor plumbing years ago, a bed by the door proved most necessary.  My own grandmother grew up using an outhouse. I remember that her mother worried why she needed to head that direction so frequently. One day she watched her daughter out the window and observed that she ate a pear or two from the orchard every time she meandered down the path. The mystery was solved.  Even with the difficulties associated with those years, my grandmother lived until she was 90. ​  The past. The present. Do we in this current generation really understand the value of our past? Are we more educated now than the people streaming to the Globe Theatre so many years ago? Did those patrons watching Shakespeare's plays in the 1600's understand humanity at a deeper level than students trying to comprehend his Old English in classrooms today?   Enjoy this little spoof on The Three Little Pigs and decide for yourself!

The Old Becomes New

A few days ago, Wayne and I decided to spend the final night of his vacation in downtown Portland. I used Priceline to catch a last minute deal, and would you believe we got Hotel Vintage? As most of my readers know, this was the original Imperial Hotel where Selena and Dirk meet Bert. No spoilers here... :)

The hotel just went under a 12 million dollar remodel last year. I've stayed here years ago, but the hotel now captures the hipster vibe of Portland. They even have jersey robes and a yoga mat in each room. I posted several pictures in case you enjoy seeing the modern look of the past!

Read my TripAdvisor review if you want more details of the new look.
http://www.tripadvisor.com/ShowUserReviews-g52024-d112196-r… Note the 1894 inscription etched in the stone over the door.

It's official!

The culmination of years of work enjoyed 15 minutes of fame this  week when I uploaded Spring Thaw as an ebook on Smashwords. What a tumultuous journey this has been.

 As many of you know, the publishing industry has morphed over the past decade for both writers and their agents. The creation of the ebook and Amazon silently eroded the foundation of traditional publishing, slowly at first, but overtime the rivets grew, deteriorating businesses as well as marketing venues. Now, only a handful of viable retail options remain for writers.  Because of this shift, publishing companies have tightened their belts, encouraging budding authors to have tens of thousands of followers before submitting a proposal.  One editor stated that publishing a book use to move at the pace of a model T-ford, then it slowed to a John Deere tractor, now the process moves at the pace of a rickshaw.  

So what's an author to do....pray. And so I did...I felt the Lord told me to wait. Fast forward weeks, and the answer came.  I heard through a friend that The Multnomah County Library located in downtown Portland established a project for local writers. If anyone wished, they could upload their novel with Smashwords for selection. The library would add selected novels into their ebook data base which receives 1500 hits a day.  I felt this was the answer for which I had been waiting, and so I naively began the process.  Copying, pasting, deformatting, reformatting until, miraculously, last week it was done and uploaded for distribution.  And so, breathing a sigh of relief, I sat and waited. Waited for what? I'm not sure. After years of focusing on the writing, I now stared in awe at the journey of marketing....and so it begins....here....and there... and everywhere.   

And so my question goes out to you...any ideas where to market an ebook?  My daughter-in-law, Mallory, mentioned posting pictures in coffee shops....great idea...happening soon.  What about your ideas? I'd love to hear them.

"I Feel His Pleasure"

Who can forget the theme song from Chariots of Fire?  

Faint in the distance, trumpets herald the approach of the runners.  Pulsating with anticipation, the beat intensifies as their pounding feet gain ground. The music swells and transforms into a rhythmic stride as each athlete paces himself for the long challenge ahead.  Although competition runs on either side, for now the conflict lies within, each runner maintaining the gait he feels necessary to win the prize.  He battles the desire to succumb to the grueling pain begging him to stop; instead, he strives on toward the goal.  But what propels  him forward? What allows him to endure?

​In the movie, Chariots of Fire, each character enters the Olympics for different reasons. Harold Abrahams, an English Jew, desires to overcome the prejudice he faces at the university, but for Eric Liddell the yearning to glorify his Maker compels him to continue.  His sister rebukes him. She only sees her calling and believes it universal, but Eric understands what few believers do, that God created us differently, each for His own good purpose.  And so, Eric runs. He runs because when he does, he feels God's pleasure.   Eric Liddell returned to China a year after the Paris Olympics of 1924 and served the Chinese faithfully until his untimely death from a brain tumor in 1945.  I do not wish to minimize the continued dedication and importance of Eric Liddell's ministry in China, but I find it remarkable that when we think of Eric Liddell, we remember him as the man who threw his head back as he neared the finish line and ran for his Lord. 

This week I've been thinking about where I feel God's pleasure. Was it while I taught school this week, or was it while ministering to the needs of others, or perhaps now as I sit to write? I am still praying about the answer, but I know deeply that when I find it, I intend to throw my head back and bask in His pleasure.

The Columbia River Gorge

Yesterday, my husband and I, along with our son and his wife, biked along the Historic Columbia River Highway.  Parking at the John B. Yeon State Scenic Corridor,  we pedaled along the old road. During the first several miles the trail parallels the main highway, so travelers should bring earbuds to muffle the noise, but eventually, the path leads up to this majestic view of the river. The spectacular portrait is just one of the many reasons I fell in love with Oregon.  God's creation overwhelms the soul. Its magnitude spreads as far as the eye can see, only corrupted by man's inventions. I took this picture so you could better understand my description of Selena's first encounter with its beauty in my novel:

"As the Oregon Short Line veered west on its final length of journey, the Columbia River Gorge unveiled before her. Water, the color of slate, spilled across the wide expanse of dusty ground spanning the horizon until, bumping into an embankment far in the distance, it flowed companionably with the moving train. Behind the river conifer trees swept across the dark soil leaving a lush green blanket draped over the hillside. " Spring Thaw, Chapter 1.

As the bike path continues, it winds deeper into the woods, the old road dusted with fallen needles, the aroma of crushed pine and fir wafting sporadically through the air. Elowa Falls and Toothrock trailheads beckon pedestrian hikers to use this historic highway as well.

Proceeding further, one portion of the trail includes a steep staircase equipped with bike wheel grooves. Pressing the brakes while guiding the bike down the staircase helps with the momentum, but the process does require some bruit strength, especially for the return trip where the bike must be pushed up the staircase. My son owns a light bike, so he lifted it onto its back wheel and glided it up effortlessly, or so it seemed to me who was breathless at the top from the ordeal with my sturdy cruiser.

Before arriving at Cascade Locks, the path crosses the river entering the Cascade Hatchery. As it is October,  salmon filled the river, returning to spawn where they were born years earlier.  Looking over the bridge the river writhed with movement. Some fish energetically jumped and thrashed in the gravel while others lay exhausted on the bottom as their end drew near.

After gliding into the small town, we enjoyed lunch at the Bridgeside. The restaurant is just a glorified cafeteria serving burgers, soup and sandwiches, but the views are astounding while energizing our bodies for the six mile return trip.    

Chapter 20: "New Life"

Ch. 20: “New Life”

            Dust particles swirled in the rays of light as the sun shimmered through the window. Restless after weeks at the farm, Selena’s spirits danced with them. A weary month had passed. Selena, tired of the endless confinement, tried to visit Laura one day, but sickness had decimated their home as well, and she was turned away. But not today, there was no dampening her joy this morning. Today was Julia’s party. Her spirits soared with the sun. Dirk could feel his wife’s exuberance. She reminded him of a child in a candy shop with a penny to spend. He smiled watching her move around the kitchen, excitedly putting the final confections on the layered chocolate cake she’d made for the occasion.

            Hours later, Julia greeted them at the door with hugs. Stories about the miserable weeks of illness that obliterated both homes dominated the meal. Afterwards, Wade snuggled in Ra-ra’s lap while she read him a story. One of the characters in the story was named Julia. The older woman tried to explain to Wade that it was her name. Selena watched them, marveling at Julia’s patience. Wade didn’t understand, so she tried a different approach. “Wade, someday when you grow up and get married, you might have children, and they will call you ‘Papa’ even though your name is really ‘Wade’. Before she could even finish her explanation, Wade interrupted with an emphatic sigh. “Ra-ra, I’m not going to get married, I’m not a girl!” The boys erupted in laughter. Wade looked around surprised by the reaction and joined the laughter with gusto although he had no idea why.

            “Hey, Jacob, that’s why you haven’t gotten married, you’re not a girl.” Johnnie antagonized his older brother.

            “Guess, who gets barn duty?” Julia pointed to the door.

            “Aw, Ma; I’m just kidding!”

            “Yes, that might be, but I’m not. Shoo!”

            Johnnie knew he had lost the battle and slumped out the door. The lull did not last long, within minutes he barged back through the door. “Ma, Marigold’s gone! I can’t find her anywhere.  Must be time for her to lamb.” After bellowing the news to all willing to listen, Johnnie retreated back through the door with his usual energy to resume the search. The door slammed behind him.

             “Marigold?” Selena looked to Dirk for an answer.

            “Favorite sheep,” was his blunt answer.  She almost always delivers twins and always in the woods for some reason.” Standing up, Dirk said, “I’ll take the spot above North Creek. Jacob, why don’t you look at her usual place down by Sally Anne’s house? Come on Wade, bundle up, we have to go hunt for Marigold.” Looking over at his wife he asked, “You’re welcome to come, but be forewarned, it can take some time to find her.”

Nodding she said, “I’ll grab my things.” Stepping from the house, Selena blinked as her eyes adjusted to the bright light. Tipping her head back, she closed her eyes, relishing in the brilliance of the day.  Brr.  It’s cold.  She’d noticed this winter that whenever the overcast clouds dissipated and the sun returned, the clear sky funneled in the frigid air.  It’s as if someone ripped off a fluffy blanket.  Selena wrapped the scarf tighter around her head.

            The trio headed to the upper portion of the yard and followed a road trampled by the cows to the north field. The ground crunched beneath their feet. At the edge of the open grazing area, Dirk turned left onto a small wooded trail heading into the thick firs. They meandered along the path for several minutes until it came to a portion of the creek edged with lacy ice crystals. Lifting his young son, Dirk swung the boy easily to the other side. Offering his hand, Dirk guided Selena up the small embankment of wet rocks to join Wade. They continued on for several more minutes before Dirk held his hand up to silence his chattering son. Crouching down beside Wade, Dirk pointed to a small open area before them where Marigold paced nervously, pawing the ground here and there. “There she is. Looks like we got here just in time. She’s close to delivering.” Lifting his son up into his arms, he stood quietly behind Selena. 

            “Do we help her?” Selena asked.

            “Only if she needs it.” Dirk replied. “She’s a good mother; she rarely has trouble lambing.”

            As they watched, Marigold flopped down onto the grass, her sides heaving with the pressure of the task at hand.  Soon the bag presented and with a few small pushes the sac plopped on the grass behind her. She stood up quickly, Dirk watched her as she began to free the lamb of its membrane, licking the covering away. Pushing the lamb with her muzzle, she continually let out high-pitched bleats.

            “What’s she doing? Is she in pain?” Selena asked anxiously.

            Whispering, he said, “No, she’s communicating her voice to her baby. She’s training the lamb to know her sound for when they return to the flock. She will keep bellowing for the next few hours.

            Wade mesmerized by the scene before him, quietly watched the mother lick her young.

            “How long before the second lamb is born?” Selena asked quietly.

            “Depends. Sometimes minutes, sometimes half-an-hour. Hopefully, quickly for Wade’s sake.”

            Selena smiled up at her little son still entranced by the slimy little lamb now struggling to his feet. The wobbly lamb nudged here and there at the mother’s legs looking for sustenance. They waited patiently as the ewe prodded her offspring back toward her udder.

Dirk laughed, “Lambs need to be pointed in the right direction. They never seem to know which end of the sheep contains the udder.”

Marigold stopped her prompting as she had a new concern, the second delivery obviously imminent.  This time the ewe chose to remain standing for the birth giving Selena a better view of the process.

            “Good, the feet are presenting first. This should be an easy delivery for her.” Dirk spoke his thoughts aloud.

            “Why didn’t you have to cut the umbilical cord with the last one?” Selena asked.

            “The ewe would have bled to death. Sheep aren’t like humans. When the lamb drops from the birth canal, it stretches the umbilical cord until the weight severs it naturally, sealing the cord.”

            Sliding briskly from its mother, the newborn lamb lingered on the ground too long for Dirk’s liking. Handing Wade to Selena, he grabbed a handful of dead leaves, and tried to brush the membrane from the lamb’s nostrils. He poked the stunned creature’s nostril with the tip of a small twig, and when it twitched in response, dragged it to its mother’s head. Wiping his hand on the dead stubble grass nearby, he waited to see whether the mother would accept or reject this trembling newborn, black as coal. She sniffed her offspring and then proceeded with her maternal licking.  Dirk stepped aside to allow her to finish this important bonding phase and watched as the first lamb showed his own interest in his recently added sibling.

            “We’ll just wait for the placenta and determine if this lamb is the last.”

            Wade leaned toward Dirk. “Papa, I want to pet the lamby,” he declared emphatically, his pleading dark eyes just inches away from his father’s.

            “Not yet, son. We need to wait a few more days for them to get stronger.” Taking his own growing boy back into his arms, he looked down at Selena absorbed in the moment, her wispy curls rebelliously peeking out from beneath the scarf. Without thinking she drew close to Dirk’s added warmth in the cold afternoon air, and he responded in like manner. Wade, situated between them on Dirk’s right hip, turned to observe this newest lamb stumble to life.

            As they stood there watching the mother and her lambs bond, Dirk felt his own heart stir. The straining labor and painful exertion of the sheep produced this tender union before him. A mother meeting her offspring. Marigold’s effort had culminated not in despair, but in life. He thought back over the last agonizing years. The excruciating loneliness, rejection, bitterness and unforgiveness that precipitated his hardened heart.  There was no denying that he’d had his share of pain. One’s existence was never without heartbreak, but he saw now that suffering did not always end in hopelessness. As vivid as the scene unfolding before him, the family by his side became implicitly clear. Uniting through everyday circumstances. Selena shared his grief; she shared his life. He felt the intimate union of a companion through it all: sickness, sadness, as well as joy, and now this moment together experiencing new birth. Whatever circumstances life brought his way, he now knew he wanted Selena by his side. The last layer of his frozen heart trickled away.

            Reaching the end of his patience with this prolonged birthing process, Wade wiggled to be free. Dirk, assured that Marigold had finished her job, led his family back towards the house. When he reached the creek, he hopped down the embankment and reached up for his son. Selena passed him down, and then grabbed a small tree nearby to aid herself. Dirk surprised her by reaching up his two arms to her as well. She let him swing her down by his side, but he didn’t let go. She looked up into his eyes cautiously, afraid to find there the familiar fear and rejection, but only desire filled his eyes today. Her heart raced as he bent down toward her. She melted into his arms as his lips met her own.

            “Papa, what are you doing?” A small voice beckoned fearfully from another world.

            Selena and Dirk pulled apart slowly. Looking down into Selena’s brimming eyes, “I’m kissing your Mama.”

            Wade stamped his little foot on the ground. “No, only I kiss Mama.”

            Squatting down in front of his son, he pulled the boy to himself. “Well, son, perhaps it’s time that you shared your Mama with me. “I’m getting kind of lonely downstairs all by myself. Maybe we could all live upstairs together.”

            Always happy to have company, Wade perked up, “Papa, I would share my room. You could sleep on my floor.”

            “That’s a nice idea, son, but I thought maybe I would let Mama share her big bed with me.”

            Wade delighted to be part of all this adult discussion, brightened with the abundance of possibilities flitting across his mind. “Or…,” tipping his head to the side with serious consideration and a flip of his hand, “I could share Mama’s bed, and you could have mine.”

            “Hmm, well, that’s an idea,” Dirk tousled his son’s hair, “but then Mama and I seem to be a bit bigger than you are, so maybe we should share the largest bed.”

            Wade thoughtfully considered this logic before nodding his head affirmatively. “And then when I call to ask Mama to get up, I could see you too.” The idea seemed to be growing on the young boy.

            “That you could!” Dirk assured him as he looked up into his wife’s gleaming eyes. Standing up he took his son’s hand and headed back down the trail. As they approached the final field, Dirk could see the house ahead, “Wade, why don’t you just run down there and tell Ra-ra about Marigold and her babies.”

            “Where are you going, Papa?”

            “Oh, I’ll be right behind you.”

            Without a moment’s notice, the young boy scampered off, but turned around briefly to see his father pull his mother into his arms one more time.

            Selena looked up into her husband’s eyes. “Dirk, when did it happen?”

            “When did what happen?”

            Selena hesitated. Dirk hadn’t declared his love, yet his eyes spoke volumes. “You told me that you needed to deal with your past before you could think about your future. Can you tell me how or when that transformation happened?”

            Tucking her rebellious curl back where it belonged, he said, “It took time. I couldn’t even point to one specific thing at first.”  He looked into the dark eyes peering into his expectantly and realized the importance of this answer for her.  He answered quickly, “Christmas Eve.”

            “Christmas Eve! Dirk, that was weeks ago.”

            “I know. I’m a little slow.”

            “Meeting Bert that day caused me to face the pain that I buried for years. Forgiving Bert helped me forgive myself. But even more important to me was your response to the ring. Selena, I watched your face that day when Bert set that ring down on the table. I know you thought it was beautiful, but you didn’t even hesitate when Bert asked me to take it.  You thought of me. Elizabeth never did. Your response confirmed what Julia had been telling me for months. You’re not Elizabeth.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I wanted to. I stood outside your door that night longing to let you know, but I couldn’t find the words.  Then I got sick and, well, you know how the next few weeks unfolded. I’ll tell you now though.” He lifted her chin with his finger. “I love you, Selena Johnson. Beauty never meant anything to me after Elizabeth, but you showed me what real beauty is both inside and out.”

Selena felt the color rush to her cheeks. No one had noticed her for so long.

            “What do you think about skipping Wade’s nap this afternoon and heading back home instead?” Dirk murmured into her neck.  “We’ve got a lot of rearranging Mrs. Johnson, and it might be better to keep that little guy up now and put him down earlier tonight.”

            Breaking away, she looked up laughingly into his eyes. “It won’t come soon enough.”

                                                                        ***

                Julia looked up from the front porch swing to see Wade’s little legs running across the yard. Troubled at first to see him all by himself, she stood up and looked around anxiously, but then she heard him yell, “We found Marigold; she had two babies!”

“Wade, where’s your Mama and Papa?”

                “Oh, they’re just practicing kissing.” Wade flung his hand back in the direction he had just come. “Papa has a lot to learn!” And with that bombshell dropped, he proceeded to run after the goose nibbling at the new spring growth.

            Julia looked up to see the pair round the corner of the field in the distance, hand in hand, and said to no one in particular, “Well, I guess he does.”

Chapter 19: "Christmas"

Ch. 19: “Christmas”

            A bird darted around Selena’s face, beating its wings frantically. She twisted this way and that trying to dodge the assault, but she could not. As she reached up to wave the pest away, she captured the bird in her hand. It struggled to free itself, and she let it go. Heart pounding, her eyes flew open.  Wade’s smiling face beamed over her. He paused and then patted her cheek again with his pudgy hand.

 “Wake up Mama, it’s a beautiful day!” 

Selena groaned.

 “Is this the day, Mama? Is this Kuwistmas?”  She smiled at his adorable lisp.

“Yes, Wade; today is Christmas.”

 Looming over her on his hands and knees, Wade spontaneously plopped a wet, slobbery kiss on her head.  His exuberance affirmed that the short night was over, at least for her.

            Dressing quickly in the chilly room, the pair tip-toed down to the kitchen to start breakfast. Not surprisingly, they were the first to arrive. Selena stoked the cast iron stove back to life while Wade ran to look at the pretty tree. She heard him giggle. Peeking into the parlor, she watched him poke at Papa’s bulky stocking lying mysteriously on the hearth.  Gathering it in his arms he tried to lift it. Like a snake it coiled to the floor.  The contents precariously bulging at the bottom with the empty cuff alone in his hand.  

“Wade, put it back, you have to wait for Papa.” Selena smiled as he tried to lug the dangling sock back onto the hearth. Like a ball and chain it lagged behind him. He tried to lift it, but the stocking only stretched more. Finally, he gave up his battle, letting the heavy toe remain on the floor while the top cuff remained on the hearth. He patted it satisfied.

Minutes later, Julia arrived to help Selena in the kitchen, and the two women filled the house with the aroma of bacon and the musky scent of coffee. Wade stood on a chair at their elbows and chattered relentlessly. “Ra-ra, do you know what day it is?”

            “I’m not quite sure. Why don’t you tell me?” Julia played along with his game. “Is it Christmas?”

            Selena had spent weeks training Wade to enunciate this difficult new word. Now, he proudly lavished this knowledge on his latest victim. “No, Ra-ra, say it this way, Ku-wist-mus.”

             It took several more repetitions before Wade, approving of her endeavors, gave an affirmative nod. He continued to babble enthusiastically from his pedestal, but suddenly stopped abruptly mid-sentence. He cocked his head to listen. Heavy footsteps echoed down the staircase.   With a gesture of more important business pressing, Wade flung his hand out with authority. “I’ll be right back, Mama,” and with that said, scampered down off the chair to greet the men. Selena could hear the excitement in his voice as he ran through the hall calling to his father.

            “Papa, it’s Quwistmas! Come see!”

            Turning back to the task at hand, Selena broached a topic she longed to set right, “Julia, where did you ever get the name, Ra-ra?”

            Looking up from the spitting pan of bacon, Julia gave a slight shrug. “From the start, Dirk wanted Wade to consider me his Grandma, so right away began calling me so. The poor little tike never quite caught on to the “Guh” sound, so “Ra-ma” came out. When and how the name ever switched to “Ra-ra”, I don’t rightly remember. But it did, and there it stays. Between you and me, I’m kind of glad it did. I felt a little too young to be called Grandma just yet. Mind you, don’t tell Dirk.  It was nice of him to think of it and all.”

            Dirk leaned around the corner on his way out to do chores. “Merry Christmas.”  Dirk focused his eyes directly on Julia as he spoke. He knew if he looked at Selena his face would betray his restless night. “I thought I’d take Wade out to the barn with me, give you women a chance to finish up breakfast.” Selena smiled appreciatively as she whisked the batter briskly in the bowl. Trying desperately to avoid her eyes, Dirk grabbed a small coat off the hook by the door and bent down to envelope his son in it. The room erupted with noise as Jacob and Thomas reached over Ditk’s head and grabbed their coats.

“Not true, I milked yesterday, not you,” Thomas protested. Plopping down onto the bench in the mudroom, the boys pulled on their boots raising their voices with their boot straps.  Pounding footsteps overhead announced Johnnie’s  arrival, and the noise intensified. Scarfs, hats, and noise swirled momentarily, but evaporated as the boys bustled out the door. Immediately, the house became as quiet as a tomb. Selena looked up shocked by the silence. It always amazed her how much noise men made. Julia noticed Selena’s response and with a knowing chuckle said, “Enjoy the quiet; it won’t last long!”

Nodding her head, Selena smiled in agreement and returned to her task, relishing the brief solitude.

            After chores and a hearty breakfast, the family gathered around the tree and opened their simple gifts to one another. Dirk looked surprised when Wade pulled a small wooden horse from the stocking.  In answer to her husband’s questioning glance, Selena whispered that she had bought it in the mercantile before she left Illinois. Intrigued by the horsey, the boy galloped it across the floor to visit each of his “uncles” that cared to take notice.

            After the few gifts were opened, Julia suggested they sing some carols. Although not raised in a religious home, Selena had learned many of the Christmas hymns at school.  Although she always enjoyed the music, this year the words more than the melodies impacted her. Words that previously held no meaning, now burned their message into her heart.  By the time she reached the third stanza of “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing” tears welled in her eyes.” She never understood before the depth of the hymn; the cost of her rebirth. She barely could sing the words, so she listened:

“Mild He lays His glory by,

Born that we no more may die;

Born to raise us from the earth,

Born to give us second birth.

Hark, the herald angels sing;

Glory to the newborn King.”

 

            She looked at Dirk; he looked at her. They knew. They understood what maybe even Julia did not, that this same Jesus had been born to each of them this year. He had been born in their hearts.

            The day fulfilled every dream of a holiday for Selena.  Golden crusted ham, baked beans, homemade bread, sweet potatoes and mincemeat pie lulled the men into a sleepy stupor. In time Wade awoke from his nap, and so did they. The afternoon then filled with games and puzzles. Wade wandered from lap to lap wiggling in and out among the family members.  Leaning her head against the wall, she tried to engrave this memory into her mind. She wanted to remember what Christmas could look like. She wanted to remember what love looked like.

In the corner table, the boys hovered over a game. She walked over and picked up the box. Around the World with Nellie Bly,” she read aloud. “Dirk, don’t you have a book called Around the World in 80 Days?” Selena asked.

Her husband lay on the floor playing Tiddlywinks with Wade by the fire.He looked up, “Yes, I do.”

            Selena continued, “Did Nellie Bly write the book?”

            Jacob finished his turn, answering for Dirk. “No, Jules Verne wrote that book. This game is a based on another book by another author.”

            “Why would their titles be so similar?” Selena said.

            “Nellie Bly was a newspaper journalist. Right, Dirk?” Receiving an affirming nod, Jacob continued. “The story goes that Nellie owed her editor an exciting topic the next day at work but could think of nothing to submit. She dreaded facing her boss empty-handed, and wished she could go to the far ends of the earth rather than have nothing to offer him. Suddenly, she had an idea, what if she could travel around the world like Phileas Fogg…”

            Selena interrupted, “Phileas who”?

            “A character in the original book, Around the World in Eighty Days.” Dirk interjected from the floor. “He places a bet with some men that he can travel around the world in eighty days.”

            “Anyway, Nellie Bly decided to present that idea to her editor. She offered to travel around the world in 80 days like Phileas and journal her discoveries. She does, and the articles become so famous that they made this game about it.” Jacob concluded.

            “Did you ever meet Nellie Bly, Dirk?” Thomas asked.

            “You know that’s just a pen name, don’t you?” Dirk asked. “Her real name was Elizabeth Cochrane. No, I never read the book, but I read several of her articles. She wrote one called Ten Days in a Mad House.”

            Johnnie looked up suddenly interested, “What’s that about?” he questioned.

            Dirk replied, “She had herself committed into an insane asylum and wrote about the sanitarium’s treatment of women in New York. Her findings caused quite a stir and some very useful changes in the system.” He stretched his legs and arched his back.

            Johnnie brightened, “That sounds exciting!”

            “Golly, not to me,” Thomas retorted. “What if she couldn’t get back out of the asylum?”

            “Well, obviously, her editor knew that she didn’t belong there.” Jacob answered pragmatically.

            “Suppose he died before he could tell.” Johnnie seemed excited by the prospect.   

            “Take your turn, Johnnie,” Jacob had little patience with his brother’s flair for the dramatic.

            Selena turned back to the fire. She watched Dirk picking up the final pieces of the game. He looked pale. Standing up, Dirk grabbed the fireplace mantel.

            “Dirk, are you alright?”          

            “Probably just got too hot by the fire.”

            Thankfully, Julia had the courage to do what Selena couldn’t. Putting her motherly hand across his forehead, she whistled. “You’re burning up, Dirk Johnson”. Memories of last December and the loss of her first husband surged through Selena’s body. “Dirk, get upstairs and into bed,” Julia demanded.

            “No, we need to get home. Joey didn’t expect to take care of the animals this afternoon. He won’t be over.”

            Looking over at Thomas, Julia pointed at her son. “Go pack your bags. You’ll have to give a hand.”

Selena’s eyes darted back and forth between the pair. Her heart sank when her husband didn’t refuse. She knew then for sure. Dirk was sick. Relieved at Julia’s good sense, Selena found courage to pack up the house and wagon. Jacob tied an extra horse to the back of the wagon. Thomas would use it to return home later.  Dirk crawled into the back of the wagon and lay down while Thomas took the reins. Selena could hear Dirk’s teeth chattering. She turned back to look. His body shook under the covers.

            When they arrived home, Dirk climbed out the back and headed into the house. Selena never knew him to forgo the chores, and she watched him with great concern. She helped Thomas unload the wagon. “You take my bedroom, Thomas; I’ll stay here on the couch.”

            From his room Dirk rebuked, “Selena, give Thomas the couch. I’ll take care of myself.”

            Thomas looked at Selena’s disappointed face.  “Don’t feel bad, Selena.” Thomas whispered. “Dirk’s always a grouch when he’s sick. He can’t stand to be down.” He spoke louder, “But you might as well know now, if I catch it from Dirk, you can take care of me all you like! Wet clothes on my forehead, hot tea, the works.”

 Selena gave the boy a small smack with the towel in her hand. As Thomas left for the barn, she called out after him. “Bring back a chicken. I’d better get some soup started.”

            Thomas’ premonition  came sooner than either expected.  By noon, Selena had two men ill.

“More blankets, Selena,” Thomas’ body shook violently as she tried to tuck the covers tightly around his body.

 Selena burrowed through Dirk’s drawers looking for more. “Here, he can have mine,” Dirk threw off the blanket covering him, beads of sweat beading on his forehead. Selena didn’t need to feel his head to know that he was burning with fever.

 Bundling up Wade, Selena walked the half mile to the neighboring farm. She needed Joey to help with the chores. But when she arrived, she found no one home. She knocked harder willing the door to open. She peeked in the barn. The wagon was gone. Tears welled in her eyes. She rubbed them away stubbornly.

“Mama, carry me. I’m so tired.” She lifted Wade into her arms and trudged home unsure where to turn next.

             Arriving back in the yard, she saw a buggy. Pastor Wells’ buggy.  She didn’t wipe away the tears this time. They flowed freely. Hay rained from the loft as she entered the barn.  She lifted her eyes to follow its source. “I came over to wish you all a belated Merry Christmas. I popped my head into the house when I got here, and Thomas told me where you had gone. Any luck?”

            Shaking her head in denial, she added, “No one seems to be home. Can you show me what needs to be done tonight? I’m at a loss. Dirk always took care of the barnyard chores.”

            “I’ll do better than that. I’ll bring my grandson back with me later this afternoon. Come outside when you can, and we’ll show you what to do in the morning.”

            She gave him an appreciative nod, and headed back into the house to check on her patients.

The next few days flew by in a whirlwind of activity: running from room to room with drinks, boiling laundry, and trying to care for the animals.

            As dreaded, Wade succumbed to the illness as well.  His sickness concerned her the most. He begged to be held, and she tried as often as she could, but time was limited with all of the other demands pressing on her. I’ve got to make this easier. Heading upstairs, she gathered up Wade’s feather mattress and dragged it down the stairs. It would be easier to keep everyone together. This allowed Wade to see her even though she couldn’t always hold him and saved her the endless trips up and down the stairs in her exhausted state.

            “Ow-ee, ow-ee,” Wade whimpered as he tossed and turned on his new arrangement.

             “I know, little guy,” Thomas reached down from the sofa and patted Wade’s back weakly. “I feel like I just got bucked from a horse and then, as if that weren’t bad enough, trampled by a cow.”

            Over time even Dirk relented to Selena’s care, gratefully accepting bowls of broth, hot tea, and fresh handkerchiefs. By the end of the fourth day, the fever and chills seemed to subside, but then the coughing began. The rooms echoed with the rattle.

Selena felt the room spin as she hauled another load of wood through the front door. She leaned against the wall until it stopped. Good Lord, I can’t get sick.  She took in a deep breath, and resumed her task. When her hands were empty, she noticed them shaking slightly. She eased herself down into the chair. Thomas watched her.

“When’s the last time you ate, Selena?”

She shrugged, not remembering.  “I will, I promise.”

“We can’t have you down!”

Selena gave a sigh and pulled herself up from the chair to comply.

            Before Selena headed outside for chores, she tucked Wade into bed with Dirk. It provided a change of scenery for the young boy.  She found she almost looked forward to the hours alone in the barn. The fresh air and solitude provided some small relief for her overworked body.   The rhythmic ‘ping’, ‘ping’ as the milk squirted into the pan lulled her into a dazed stupor. She leaned her head against the side of the cow. She must have fallen asleep for a second. For the cow, irritated by this extra burden and the unresolved pressure in her udder, gave a sudden lurch.   Selena raised her weary head and resumed her task.

             Dirk tried to get up the next day, but before he even tucked in his shirt, he gave up the idea, and crawled back into bed.  “Selena, I’m sorry. I’ve never felt like this bad before. It’s a miracle you haven’t gotten it.”

            “Well, let’s hope I don’t!” she replied. “Somebody has to be on their feet.” She gave him a worn-out smile and went to face the mountain of laundry piling up.

            That night Selena awoke in distress. She knew something was wrong, but her brain was too foggy to understand. She sat up in bed and listened. A strange noise like a baying coyote permeated the house. The barking continued until her frenzied brain became more alert. My word, it’s Wade. Flinging back the covers, she jumped up and raced into her son’s room. The boy gasped for breath. Gathering him in her arms, she headed downstairs. She passed Dirk stumbling out of his own room.

            “Put on the kettle!” she screamed as she billowed past him out the door. Selena’s own little brother had suffered with croup; she recognized the symptoms immediately. The frantic attempt to breathe through the narrowed throat caused the haunting ‘barking’ sound. She remembered her mother taking her brother outside into the cold wintry night for relief.  Cold shivers shot up her legs as her bare feet touched the wet, wooden steps. She didn’t care. Please, God, help him. Pacing up and down the porch, she prayed fervently that the cool air would relax Wade’s airways.

 “Mama’s here, Wadey. It’s alright.” She tried to calm the boy as he desperately strained for each breath.  She tried to calm herself.

“The water’s boiling,” Dirk swung the door open to let them inside.

“Pour it into a deep bowl and grab me a big towel.” She gave Dirk several minutes to prepare and then she brought Wade inside and sat at the table over the steaming bowl.

            “Drape the towel over both of us, Dirk.” 

            Wade tried to push the blanket off his head. “No, sweetie. You and Mama have to pretend we are in a small room. This will help you breathe, baby. Trust Mama.”

            Dirk listened helpless outside of their little world.  He sat his spinning body down in the chair by their side willing Wade’s breathing to regulate. Thomas propped himself up on one arm from the sofa, watching the crisis unfold in front of him. Time stood still as they all halted their own breathing as if to aid Wade’s.  After what seemed like hours, Selena erupted from the tent and took the young boy back outside into the cool night air. She could tell his breathing had eased, and her own body relaxed in synchrony. She paced again, but this time in peace. Wade was over the worst. Dirk stood at the door watching them. 

            “Mama, I’m cold.” Wade said, his teeth chattering.

            Selena brought him back into the house. “He’ll be alright now,” she uttered to the men, praying she was right. Sitting down in the large leather chair, she cuddled Wade to herself. Keeping his head upright against her chest, she threw a blanket over them both settling down for the remainder of the night.  Dirk patted his son gently on his head and stumbled back to his bed having spent the last of his energy.

            Thomas slumped back onto the couch, “I hope I marry someone just like you, Selena.”      Dirk listened from the other room and thought hard about what the young man said.

            Sleep did not come easy that night. Excessive fatigue stimulated frantic dreams in the exhausted mother. She saw Wade standing across a raging river dangerously close to the edge, but she couldn’t reach him. She tried to swim to him, but the water caught her dress pulling her down into the current. She stretched her hand above her head trying to grasp anything to free herself. She cried out in fear and woke herself from the dream. Wade stirred, but exhausted repositioned and slept again.

            “Selena, are you alright?” Thomas’s voice pierced the dark room.

            “Just a dream,” she mumbled.  Her heart beat uncontrollably. Her arms felt numb from the heavy weight of the child, but she hesitated to lay him down. She needed him near. Hours later, she carried him back to his bed. Crawling back into hers, she looked at the clock. It was 4:30.  No use sleeping now. It’s time to milk the cows. She lay there, unable to move, thinking about her night. What would have happened if she’d lost Wade? She couldn’t even imagine life without him. As she lifted her complaining body to face the day, a new thought crossed her mind. What would Dirk do with her if Wade had died?  He wouldn’t need me if Wade was gone. Depressed from sheer exhaustion, tears streamed down her cheeks. She brushed them aside. Trudging into Wade’s room, she checked his breathing; it was soft and regular again. She kissed his sweaty head, and headed to the barn to face the cows.

            When she came in hours later, she found Dirk sitting at the kitchen table drinking tea he had made himself.

            “Feeling better” she asked.

            “I think I’m alive. We’ll see how I feel in an hour. Go lay down, Selena. I’ll take care of Wade when he wakes up.”

            She stared at him, exhaustion muddling the clarity of her mind. She nodded, trudged up the stairs, flopped on the bed, and didn’t awaken for four hours.

            When she straggled back downstairs later, she found Thomas up as well.

“Thomas and I were talking. No use sending him home yet. Although it’s highly likely I already exposed them, I don’t want to take a chance of giving Julia and the boys this.

            Life eased tremendously for Selena with the extra help of the two men. Although not functioning completely, each day they could do more and her burdens lightened.

***

            Within a few more days, Dirk took over all of the outdoor chores. Standing by the barn one morning, Dirk inhaled the fresh damp air. It amazed him how much more he appreciated the simple things of life after his illness. He hated the confinement of the house when he was sick. Looking back from the barn at his prison, he thought about the past two weeks. When he lay in bed on Christmas Eve, he finally admitted to himself that his perspective of Selena was as faulted as his view of Elizabeth. Selena’s care of them all over the past days certainly sealed any doubts he had concerning her. Julia was right; she wasn’t Elizabeth. Dirk remembered being ill during his first marriage. His wife left and went to a party. And to make matters worse, she never came back that night, choosing to stay at her mother’s until he was better. No, his wives were two very different people. Why am I so scared then? He couldn’t rightly answer. 

            A movement caught Dirk’s attention. He looked high up into the towering firs that stood behind the barn. A gray squirrel scrambled up the trunk. Thirty feet above the ground it stopped. Heedless of any danger, the squirrel leapt from its bough. Sailing through the air, it landed safely on the branch of a neighboring tree. The thrust of the jump caused both limbs to sway erratically. Seemingly unaware of the danger, the squirrel raced ahead on its frantic search for food. Dirk turned back to the barn, jealous of the squirrel’s faith. Animals instinctively lived how God created them. Why couldn’t he trust God that way? God created him a man filled with desires and needs. Why couldn’t he take the leap of faith necessary to open his heart to a woman again, a woman who loved him and wanted him? Did he trust God enough to overlook the pain of the past? For the first time he wanted to.

***

            Thomas heaved the saddle over his horse as Dirk and Selena watched him.

“Tell your mother thanks for sparing you, Thomas,” Dirk said.  Then, giving the young man a gentle jab in the rib, he added, “Not that you were much help!”

            Thomas hunched over to protect his chest. “Hey, watch out! Those ribs still hurt from coughing.”  Grasping the stirrup, Thomas swung his leg up and over the horse.

            “We’ll be down for your Mom’s birthday in a couple of weeks.”

            “Try and keep your germs home this time,” Thomas said meaning it.

            Smiling, Dirk gave the horse a slap on the rump and sent the young man on his way.

            As the pair turned back to the house, Selena said, “It’s Julia’s birthday?”

            “Yes, she turns thirty-six this year.”

            Selena stopped abruptly. “Dirk, you’re not serious?”

            Dirk looked at Selena, unsure why this information surprised her so much. “You know she married young. I think Jacob came along pretty quickly.”

            Selena continued to stare at him. “She’s only a few years older than me. My goodness, I think of her like a mother.”

            “She is; she grew up fast.”

            Selena shook her head in amazement. No wonder Julia doesn’t want to be called Grandma. I don’t blame her.            “Dirk, I don’t even know when Wade’s birthday is, or for that matter, yours?”

“Wade turns three, late April.” And then he added softly, “You arrived on my birthday.”

            She looked at him surprised. “Did you plan it that way?”

            He laughed. “I think you know me enough now, to realize that I’m not that sentimental. When’s yours?”

            She hesitated before adding sheepishly, “Actually, last week.”

            It was Dirk’s turn to feel abashed. “Selena, I’m sorry.”

            “You don’t need to be. I’m not that sentimental either. I never could afford to be.”

            After what seemed like weeks imprisoned by illness, they both lingered on the porch. Selena closed her eyes and breathed deeply of the fresh air. The wind blew gently on her face as the sun warmed her face. Emboldened by the bright day, Selena broke the silence. “I never asked you, Dirk. How many people answered your advertisement for a wife?”

            He looked surprised by the question. “Too many.” He shook his head with the memory. “Someday, I’ll let you look through the letters. Some were outright scary.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “Like this one,” he tilted his head slightly as he recited the letter. “’I traveled to California under false pretenses, but the man was a drunk. Could you please send money quickly so I can leave him? I promise to make you a good wife.’ Or better yet this one, ‘I’ve never worked with children, but I imagine it can’t be that hard. I want to give up my life at the saloon.’”

            Selena shuddered at the thought. “Dirk, what made you pick mine?”

            He thought back to the past and his face darkened. “Well, as I remember yours was the first letter that rang true. You were a widow, so right or wrong I surmised that you knew how to run a home and live with someone else. You raised younger siblings, and you spoke of loving and nurturing my son.

            “See, you do have some feelings,” she teased.

            “No, really. You’d be surprised how many ladies didn’t even mention Wade. Some even asked how much money I had in the bank!”

            “My word. That’s forward! Well, I’m glad you picked me.” Selena didn’t wait for a reply; she went back into the house.

            Dirk wanted to say “He was too”, but the words froze on his tongue, and she was gone.

***

            The weeks mellowed back into their cyclical pattern; at least from Selena’s point of view. Not so for Dirk. Every day he faced a raging battle between his body, his heart and his mind. His body, awakened to life, desired his wife every minute. His heart knew her to be one of the kindest women he ever met, but his mind, consumed by fear and painful rejection, always reigned victorious and held him back. He purposed to spend more time in the barn to ease this growing tension, but within hours of being there, the empty void overpowered his judgement, and he found excuses to be back in the house near her. He was a man in turmoil.


 

Chapter 18: "The Visit"

Ch. 18: “The Visit"  

            The next morning the house hummed with activity. Dirk, who had offered to sleep with Wade, looked exhausted, whether from the constant twitching of a sleeping toddler or the expectations of the coming day, Selena could not tell.

            As Dirk loaded the last bundles of paraphernalia into the wagon, Selena peered out the living room window at a massive trestle looming in the distance. Their arrival at dusk the previous evening concealed what the daylight illuminated before her.  She tipped her head allowing her eyes to follow the rails as they rose skyward up the steep hill. A faint blur in the distance caught her attention. She squinted, trying to bring the image into focus. A cable car perched precariously atop the tracks rumbled closer. 
          
            “Land sakes,” she muttered. Looking furtively around the room, she noticed Walt standing in the foyer. She pointed her finger at the window and said, “Is that the cable car Dirk said we were going to ride?”

             Walt laughed at her pale face. “Not to worry. You won’t get on it until you reach the flat streets of Portland.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“He is.” Dirk’s voice startled her from behind. “I plan on leaving the wagon and horses at the livery barn when we get to town and then ride the street car for the remaining few blocks.”

  Selena turned back to the window. Mesmerized, she watched as the car rattled in her direction, and then, traversing across her window pane view, proceed out of sight. With a silent shudder, she turned and hugged a last good-bye to her friends.

            As the horses plodded down the street, Dirk watched her absorption with the tinder structure crisscrossing the horizon.  “Quite the creation, isn’t it?” he asked.

            “I’ve never seen anything like it; it’s frightening. Have you ever ridden on it?”

            Smiling at her obvious anxiety he answered with heroic confidence, “Several times.”

            “Oh, my. You’re braver than I am.”

            “I bet you rode on trestles just as high when you crossed the Rockies.”

            “Well, if I did, I had no idea, which was probably for the best!” she said while fixating her eyes securely on the latest car plodding along the supports. “Were you scared?”

            Not able to resist the temptation, he continued, “No, not really. Well, except for that one time when the car left the tracks.” He watched her for the anticipated response; he was not disappointed.

            With pure horror on her face, she turned to him aghast, “Oh, Dirk, tell me you are not serious!”

            Feeling a hint of remorse for his boyish antics, he sheepishly admitted that he slightly embellished the truth. “It did happen though, several times actually, but never when I rode it. The cable failed to catch the car on the turntable at the end of the line above us.” Selena crooked her neck to look back up the hill in the direction he pointed. “When the car began the descent at the top, it accelerated uncontrollably.  The employees assessed the situation within minutes and jumped off the car, leaving the passengers to fend for themselves. The car careened down the tracks finally rolling off at Jefferson Street down below. Amazingly, no one died.”

            “You said that happened more than once?” she asked horrified. “I cannot believe anyone even got on the cars again after hearing about the first episode?” She shivered slightly as the dramatic scene unfolded in her mind.

            The streetcar now out of view, Wade distracted Selena for the rest of their journey with his curious response to the world around him.  As the wagon crossed each city intersection, the toddler’s excitement increased inversely with that of his father’s.  The closer they neared their destination, the more notable Dirk’s silence became. Inwardly, she prayed for the strength they both needed for the hours ahead. 

Even with piles of quilts layered on the buckboard seat, Selena’s body ached from the jolting ride of the past two days. She was glad to finally stretch her legs at the livery. The ride on the street car lasted only a few blocks before Dirk signaled the conductor to stop.

             “Watch out for the mud,” Dirk called over his shoulder as he stepped down into the street.

Easier said than done. Selena raised her dress as far as she respectfully dared and tried to maneuver between the small islands of barren ground while Dirk carried Wade in long, easy strides ahead of her. The dress she had planned to wear would have fared much better under these circumstances, but peering through the doorway into the prestigious lobby, she appreciated her friend’s thoughtful suggestion.

It’s beautiful.  Her eyes roved over the plush carpet, velvet drapes and marble fireplace. She removed her shawl and asked the bell boy for directions. Leaving Dirk and Wade to wait, she freshened up in the ladies’ parlor room.  When she reentered the lobby several minutes later, a tall, stately man stood talking to Dirk with his back toward her. She sensed the tension in Dirk, his shoulders and back rigid with emotion. Wade, impatiently twisting and squirming at Dirk’s side, noticed Selena first and, dropping his father’s hand, ran toward her.

 “Mama.”

Dirk stepped aside to grab his wayward son, and Bert Nelson appeared before her. Dressed in a dark-tailored jacket, grey vest, and tapered white collared shirt, the distinguished gentlemen exuded self-assured confidence.  His speckled hair contrasted sharply with his snow white beard, chiseled into an authoritative point. His moustache had been waxed into submission, but that façade melted like a candle under a flickering flame the moment Selena grasped Wade’s hand. Selena’s appearance had conjured up recollections of another mother, of another time. Without moving his iconic stature, Bert’s eyes darted from Dirk to this apparition standing before him, desperately struggling to comprehend the intermittent years that somehow escaped him. Two years ago when Bert Nelson slipped silently away in the night, he left his past frozen in time. Now before him stood proof that life had rambled forward, and without his permission.  His shoulders sagged with the disclosure.

“Bert,” Dirk looked hesitantly at the old man. “My wife, Selena.”

The old man nodded a sign of acknowledgment and stroked his beard nervously.

Selena breathed a sigh of relief when the waiter signaled for them to follow him to their table. Wade oblivious to painful pasts, warmed quickly to this new stranger. Devoid of hope, the old man consumed the offered gift like fertile ground soaked up rain on a warm summer day. The metamorphosis in the gentleman’s eyes rekindled memories of Selena’s first encounters with the therapeutic balm of Wade’s love. Akin to the banker’s emptiness and unaffected by his past deceptive choices, she had little hurt to overcome, but she watched Dirk suffer. Her heart bled as the tumultuous waves of emotion washed over his face. Her husband clenched his teeth, his jaw twitching under the pressure.  Bert’s presence battled with his decision to remain at the table, clashed with his heartfelt will to forgive. She could see that the choice to stay proved more costly than Dirk had imagined.  When the food arrived and Wade settled down to fill his hungry tummy, the conversation lagged awkwardly.

              Finally, Bert set aside his fork and looked directly across the table at his son-in-law.

“Dirk, I’m not sure why you agreed to meet me, but I appreciate it.” His voice broke as he continued, “I intend to clear a bitter, old man’s conscience.” His voice softened as he looked down at his hands. “I find no excuse sufficient for what I did. I gullibly succumbed to my daughter’s manipulation.  Believe me when I tell you that I’ve paid dearly for it, dearly.” He looked up pleadingly. “Memories assail me each day, and dire regrets haunt me each night. Continually,” he added. “But the monetary loss is pittance compared to the humiliating destruction of my character, here,” and he thumped his chest forcibly. He took a deep breath before continuing, “Never underestimate the price of a clean conscience, son.” He paused again, the intensity of the past conversation sucking the life from him. With bated breath he continued softly, “Appease an old man in his final days, Dirk, and tell me you forgive me. I know that I don’t deserve it.” He hung his head in shame.

            Whether Dirk could have answered him there and then and taken the higher road of forgiveness, she would never know because at that moment Bert fumbled in his breast coat pocket and pulled out a tiny bundle wrapped in silk. He set it on the table in front of the couple and gently unfolded its intimate layers. She sensed her husband’s tension more than saw it.  Before them lay a beautiful ring. Never in her life had Selena seen anything so exquisite. Gold glimmered on a burnished band.  Intricate scroll work intensified a red stone, bold and prominent in the center while tiny jewels sparkled around it.  An unexpected gasp escaped her lips while a simultaneous low groan reverberated from her husband. She watched his face turn gray and then sallow as his mind wandered the slough of his past. Transfixed, the ring locked Dirk senses to another time. Even Wade’s expression of “Pretty, Papa” could not break the spell the ring held on him.

            “Beatrice found it after…” Bert paused reluctant to bring up his daughter, “when she finally gave away the remnants.”

            The clanking of plates and clamoring of voices in the room continued, but death lingered at their table. “It’s rightly yours, Dirk.” Trying desperately to right the situation he continued uselessly, “I see your new wife has no ring.” The proclamation focused three sets of eyes on Selena’s hand. Despairing for her husband, she looked at him and without thinking removed her hand from view as if to somehow end his agony.  The table began to quiver as Dirk jiggled his knee persistently under the table. The vibrations surging through the floor exposed the turmoil racing through his body. Time silently elapsed, but as it did Dirk’s color began to improve; his body slowly relaxed, and Selena found her exhaling the breath she unconsciously held.

            Finally, he spoke firmly, “Bert, I forgive you.”

 Selena wondered if he would ever continue, but in a few moments he did.

“Like you, Elizabeth coerced me. This ring reminded me of her persuasive ways.” Looking at the talisman before him, he said, “I couldn’t afford this ring; she insisted. I worked a second job at night down on the wharves trying to buy her love, an emotion I later learned is never for sale. It took this visual reminder to make me realize that we’re quite similar, Bert.” Facing the old man before him, “You too were trying to buy her love.  I never understood that.  I isolated my own pain and judged your actions harshly.  Now I see that we both fell prey to a misdirected view of affection.”

            Nodding sadly, Bert responded, “You’re right, you know. Beatrice and I spoiled her. We never could have any other children, so we lavished her with every worldly pleasure we could bestow.  We destroyed her with our idolatry.  Another child might have fared differently, but not Elizabeth. Instead of instilling gratefulness and thankfulness, the unending gifts promoted selfishness, greed and eventually power.  I’ve had several years to brood on this. Elizabeth wielded her demands and manipulated us out of bitterness. She understood something her mother and I didn’t; we used her.” Shaking his head in disbelief, “We did. We used her to satiate our need for love, and she hated us for it. She wanted mature parents, ones who could stand up to her, but we both lacked the courage.” Turning to Dirk, “You stood up to her,” the distraught father shook his head, “but it was too late. We created a type of goddess, manipulating people for her vulgar whims.”

            Bert pushed the ring firmly toward Dirk. “You deserve this, son; you worked hard for it.”

            Dirk looked at the amulet briefly, and then momentarily at Selena. She shook her head. Relieved, he pushed the ring back toward the desolate man. “Sell it, Bert. Use it to settle some of your debt. Selena and I don’t need it.”

             Dirk stood up a free man. His towering strength reached down to his wife. He gave her his hand and helped her from her chair. “We’ll head on our way now. We want to reach Julia’s before dark.” Wade administered a hearty hug to the misty-eyed man.

            Selena’s eyes glistened with pride. Shaking Bert’s outstretched hand, Selena heard his broken whisper, “You are a very lucky woman.”

            “Yes, I am aware of that.”

            “I wish to God, he had remained my son.” They both looked instantaneously at Dirk.

            Unaware of their scrutiny, Dirk brushed the crumbs off of his son’s lap and swept the young boy into his arms. Facing the pair, Dirk spoke candidly, “Bert, our circumstances aren’t what either of us would have imagined three years ago,” he paused momentarily before continuing with a raspy voice, “but when I placed my baby in your arms that day, you became Wade’s grandfather, and as far as I’m concerned that has not changed. It’s your decision whether you stay a part of his life or not.”

            The old man tried to comment, but with trembling lips, he could only nod.

            As they left the hotel minutes later, Selena lingered briefly in the doorway. She paused to gaze back and capture one more glimpse of this man. Bert hadn’t moved; he stood like a statue right where they left him, empty and alone.

                                                                        ***

            Selena lay Wade down on the piled quilts behind her seat in the wagon. The rocky roads made it difficult to sleep, but the toddler settled quietly with his picture book and left his emotionally exhausted parents to their respective thoughts.

            After a lengthy respite, Dirk broke the silence. “Thank you, Selena.”

            “For what, Dirk?”

            Dirk paused trying to gather his feelings, “For everything, really. For going with me, for supplying me the courage to forgive.” She could tell he wanted to say more. He hesitated several times before finally elaborating, “For being the kind of woman that cared more about me than expensive jewelry.”  He looked away momentarily remembering a former woman who had not.

            Selena didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing. Inwardly, she placed the compliment tenderly in the growing treasure box within her heart.

            The cold air flowed in with the dusk. Selena lifted Wade into the buckboard seat so that she could wrap them all in the quilts he horded underneath himself.  She layered several of the bulky blankets across their legs. As Dirk needed his arms free for the horse reigns, she wrapped the remaining throw around Wade and herself. He giggled and snuggled against her for added warmth. Selena thought she had never been so happy.  As the horses plodded down the final length of road toward Julia’s home, small flecks of snow began to drift down from above.  She peered up into the fluttering sky awed by the glittering beauty.

            “Wadey, stick out your tongue.”

            The young boy immediately obeyed his mother’s example, scrunching up his face when the cold crystals melted on his warm tongue and spattered against his nose.  He soon bored with the experience and tucked back into his warm den.  

The wagon jilted as the horses turned into the yard. Wade’s head popped up to look.  Pointing one pudgy hand at the house, he grabbed Dirk with the other while still inside the blanket. Looking like a comical scarecrow in baggy clothes, he yelled, “Look, Papa, look. Ra-ra’s house!” Smoke billowed from the chimney. The lights beaming from the front parlor reminded Selena of a postal card she once saw years ago in the mercantile. She never dreamed the image really existed.

                                                            ***

            Dirk pulled the team and wagon up in front of the porch stairs while Selena unbundled her son. Anxious to release his pent up energy from the day, he shed the restraints like a snake its skin and slithered down the side of the wagon with eager agility. Finding Cindy’s dress a little more restraining, Selena waited for Jacob, who was just crossing the doorway, to help her over the cumbersome side.  Dirk looked up surprised at the young man’s gesture and felt a stab of guilt at missing the opportunity.

            “Wow, don’t you look fancy? Where’ve you been?” Jacob teased Selena, grabbing her hand to steady her descent. Safely landed on the steps, she gave him a mischievous smile, but without elaborating proceeded to follow Wade into the house.

            Jacob helped Dirk unload the remaining bags and boxes into the foyer before hopping into the wagon. Dirk smiled as he heard the other two boys yell a word of greeting to Selena. They billowed out of the door, leaping up and over the backboard in one fell swoop as the wagon began to roll slowly away from the house.

            “Gosh, Selena sure looks pretty.” Thomas exclaimed as he settled down for the short jaunt.

            “That’s all you think about lately,” expressed his younger brother.

            “If I knew I’d be as lucky as Dirk, I’d advertise for a bride tomorrow.” Jacob grumbled to whoever cared to listen.”

            “That’s because Ben Johnson’s courting Sally Ann,” Johnnie announced.

            Dirk looked over at his seat companion and saw Johnnie’s comment hit the mark.

            Sally Anne, the girl on the neighboring farm, had caught Jacob’s eye when he was just ten, but as far as Dirk could tell, Jacob never let her know.

            “What do you mean lucky?” Dirk sensed he wasn’t going to like the direction of this conversation.

            “Golly, Dirk, you’re the talk of the town.” Thomas boasted.

            “How so?” Dirk replied apprehensively.

             “My friends at school questioned me for days about Selena after the dance last month.” While Thomas’ words sounded perturbed, obvious pride overshadowed his protest. “Word had spread that you remarried, and a few of my friends met her that night. After they saw her,  I can tell you that everyone wanted all the details of how you met and where she was from. When they heard you advertised in the newspaper for her, well…” he threw his hands into the air for emphasis, “they couldn’t stop talking about how pretty she was…you know, for a mail order bride.”

             Dirk closed his eyes willing the conversation to end, but Thomas oblivious to subtle nuances continued, cocking his head with authority, “Frankly, you gave many men hope!”  He nodded his head gravely as if to affirm this fallacious argument.

            Dirk couldn’t help smiling at the genuine conviction of this sagacious sixteen year old.

“Beauty’s not everything, you know, Thomas.”  Dirk tried to steer this conversation away from this dubious course.

            “It sure helps!” Johnnie interrupted, giving Thomas a playful poke with his elbow.

            “Thomas thinks your neighbor girls are pretty. Are they Dirk?” Johnnie begged as they removed the halters from the horses a few minutes later.

            Dirk reached over and rumpled the young man’s hair, “You’re too young to be thinking about girls yet. Watch and learn from your brothers’ mistakes.” A cry of comradery erupted from the offended pair.

            The boys each dispersed around the barn to finish their individual chores. Dirk brushed the horses down mechanically, but his mind strayed far from the task. He despised gossip, but small towns seemed to thrive on it, at least this one did. He thought moving out to the farm would quell such nonsense, but he should have known better.  He wondered how much the boys really understood about his relationship with Selena or even Elizabeth for that matter. Although outspoken at times, if Julia chose to keep something secret, she defended it like the Alamo. He watched Jacob across the stall; he pitied and envied the trite pains of the innocent heart. He led the horse by the disheartened young man and nonchalantly probed, “Did you ever let Sally Ann know how you felt?”

            “Nah” came his curt reply.

            “She seems like a nice girl; she deserves the right to know.”

            “What have I got to offer her?” the young man’s bitterness spewed through the opened vent, “Ben Johnson’s already inherited his father’s business and house!”

            “Not every woman cares about money, Jacob!  Maybe she can’t think of a better reason to turn Ben down.  Her parents might be pressuring her to settle down now that she’s out of school?”

            The young man shrugged with defeat. “I envy you, Dirk.” Noting his companion’s vague look, Jacob continued, “…with Selena, I mean: no courting, no pressure. You just had to pay for the advertisement, answer a few letters, save money for a train ticket, and marry your wife.”

            Speechless, Dirk paused for a minute before answering. “What do you mean ‘no pressure’?”

            “You know, sitting on her front porch and talking while her parents hover like vultures over a carcass listening to every word. And the worst part is trying to make conversation about nothing.” Dirk could commiserate with Jacob on that point, remembering his own first few months with Selena.

            “It may have looked easy, but that’s not true. Selena and I didn’t even know each other. You want to talk about having nothing to say!  And as you may well know, I surely paid a high price in my first marriage, don’t you think?” Dirk looked him straight in the eye.

            Hanging his head slightly from the mild rebuke the youth continued, “Ya, I guess you did, but that’s why I like the whole idea of ordering a bride.”

            Dirk waited, wondering how much he should really expose about his previous marriage. “Jacob, I knew very little about either of my wives.  With Elizabeth, her beauty clouded my ability to be objective. I overlooked, ignored, and denied clear facts because I did not want to see them. Any newspaper reporter worth his salt knows the dangers of that mistake.  I chose to let my emotions determine truth rather than letting the facts unravel and expose the story. A blunder only a juvenile journalist makes. I knew better!  I swore I would never let that happen again, so I distanced myself with Selena and researched her objectively, but that relationship still had its challenges. As he broached the topic with Jacob, he felt a dull ache gnawing within him. Something felt wrong, but he couldn’t quite grasp what it was. “Frankly, I didn’t plan on establishing a relationship with Selena, so in my case, it worked out.”

            Jacob looked at Dirk stunned, baffled by the words.

            Unaware of his own belligerent comment, Dirk blundered on, “Honestly, this option really could have been disastrous when you think about it. I mean if a girl needs to answer an advertisement in a newspaper, usually there’s a reason. Why can’t they find someone nearby, if you know what I mean?”

             Watching Jacob’s grave demeanor, he changed the course of the conversation, “With Sally Ann, it’s different. You know her well; you know her family. If I were you, I’d give that Mr. Johnson a little competition. Even if Sally Ann still choses Ben, it’ll probably help her determine her own mind and give the town something new to talk about,” he finished bitterly.    

            Thanks, Dirk, maybe I will.” He gave the cow a pat as he moved behind her. Staring at his blind companion, he said, “I still think you’re a very lucky man.” He hesitated briefly before gaining the courage to continue, “Elizabeth was pretty, but just between us, Dirk, I think Selena’s gorgeous!” Jacob turned to shovel up the last few bales of hay into the stall. Dirk fixed his eyes on the young man heedless that he now faced his back. Helpless to decipher his unsettled feelings, he led the horse to its stall.

                                                                        ***     

            A blend of aromas met the men at the doorway an hour later. The musky scent of spices drifting from an apple pie battled with the roasted turkey. The smells permeated the room and triggered hunger instantly.  As Dirk passed through the mudroom to change for dinner, he noticed that Selena had moved the smaller bags and packages up to the bedrooms. Dirk grabbed the larger, heavier one she left behind in the entry. As he walked to the staircase, he watched Selena and Julia bustling around the kitchen in their aprons. Wade, down on his hands and knees on the floor, was trying to persuade the kitten to come out and play. Watching him grab at the convenient tail spoke volumes as to why the animal selected the china hutch for shelter. Poor thing. He’d deal with that crisis when he came back downstairs if the kitten’s claws didn’t do so first.

            Half-way up the stairs, he heard Selena’s reprimand, “Wadey, leave kitty alone.” Too late! A growling hiss followed by the wail of a crying boy finished the story. Dirk sighed, set the suitcase on the landing, and headed back down the stairs to deal with the situation. He found Selena comforting the boy at the table. With a commiserating look at his wife, he intervened. Lifting the sniffling toddler, he made his way to the sofa for a little comfort and instruction.

                                                                        ***

            After dinner, Julia brought out two bowls into the front room:  a large one full of popped corn and the other, a smaller one, bulging with cranberries mottled with hues ranging from bright red to deep crimson black. With the fire blazing, the family gathered around the room and began to string a garland to decorate the tree. At first, Selena let Wade push the needle through each piece, but he soon bored of the tedious pace. Selena, experienced in finding new ways to entertain a child, modified the task to entice Wade to persevere with the decoration, letting him select the item of his choice from the different bowls for her to string. The garland progressed much quicker with this method, although the ordered arrangement suffered.

            Thomas and Jacob lasted only a little longer than Wade before they pulled out the chess board, poured a pile of popcorn between them on the small table nearby, and ate their portion while they played. More interested in talk that decorations, Johnnie plopped in the overstuffed chair near the sofa and chatted unremittingly to Dirk about the hopes of adding beehives to the farm in the spring. Dirk feigned interest in Johnnie’s new venture, but Selena’s tender patience with his son captivated his thoughts. He watched her smiling face as she bent over the absorbed little boy, captivated by his authoritative decision making. Inadvertently, Wade popped a cranberry instead of a popcorn kernel into his mouth. Selena tipped her head back and laughed as his little face puckered with the sour surprise. Desperately, he tried to scrape the offensive bulge off his tongue.  “Wadey, no like those,” he proclaimed shaking his head emphatically. After his traumatic confusion, he handed her an endless supply of the offensive red berries and instead only nibbled on the fluffy white kernels inspecting each one carefully before doing so. When Wade wasn’t looking, Selena interspersed several popcorn onto the growing string for variety.                While Selena tucked Wade into bed later that night, the adults lingered by the remnants of the fire. Julia cautiously delved into questions about the afternoon meeting with Bert on the couch privately with Dirk.  In contrast with her lively nature, she waited patiently as Dirk, true to form, meted out each detail with long lengths of contemplation framing each deliberate thought. Used to his introspective manner, she fostered an environment where he could share by allowing him this freedom. By the time Selena returned from upstairs, Julia understood the gist of the day. She watched this woman softly enter the room and marveled at the gift they all received the day she stepped off that train.

            Julia watched Dirk’s absorption with his wife. Now that’s better! Her fingers tapped quickly against the tabletop while she waited for the tea water to boil.   I think it’s time for some pie, and I know just the person to serve it. She looked over at Johnnie sitting absorbed in his brother’s chess game on the floor. Julia, you rascal, you. She smiled unashamedly.

Motioning for Johnnie to follow her into the kitchen, she whispered her brewing plan into his ear. Placing two plates of warm pie in his hands, she sent him back to the room ready for action.  Instead of returning back to the warm spot on the rug in front of the fire, he plopped by Dirk on the couch, forcing the unsuspecting man to slide down towards Selena. It happened very smoothly with no one the wiser. Julia chuckled at Johnnie’s melodramatic skills. He might just have a flair for the stage. Gloating over her well-schemed plan proved very short-lived, however, for no sooner had the movement on the couch settled, than Selena jumped up.

            “Oh I forgot! I need to stuff Wade’s stocking for the morning.”

            Julia threw up her hands in the kitchen doorway, shook her head, and headed for the last batch of dishes. Her days as a matchmaker looked to be short-lived.

The older woman may not have been so disappointed if you could have peered into the storm raging within Dirk. Unknown to her, the seeds planted earlier in the evening by her infatuated sons had rooted and pried  away at the layers of frost encasing his heart in a way that nothing else had as yet done, his own youth awakened amidst their virility. From the moment he entered the house that night, Dirk noticed Selena. As often happens when one distances themselves from a situation, he viewed Selena through a different lens. He observed his wife, but this time through the perspective of others. He discovered her through the eyes of the boys, then through the eyes of his neighbors, and finally, through the eyes of the town, and he found himself intrigued. Remarkably, he was oblivious to his own scrutiny. If he would have known his actions were so evident to Julia, he would have stifled the reaction, but he did not, so he stared. He watched her sacrifice, her kindness, her thoughtfulness to those around her. Her laughter, her vitality brightened the room, and thanks to Jacob’s impetuous comment, he noticed her looks. She was beautiful. The fitted dress exposed the reality of her beauty. How had he missed it? The emerald material and her curly dark hair framed her ivory face defining her eyes like gems sparkling in harmony with the dress. Why had everyone else perceived what he had not? He remembered that day she arrived; he had noticed then, but found her looks disturbing. He hadn’t wanted beauty then. He despised it. Beauty represented pride, unfaithfulness, bitterness, and defeat. Over time, he overcame his prejudice and accepted her looks, but he never appreciated them. He looked past her appearance and in so doing overlooked part of her. When Jacob joined them on the couch, Dirk found himself pressed closely against Selena. Her warmth permeated the gap penetrating his defense, but it billowed away when she left, accentuating the emptiness of her departure.  His eyes lingered on her as she walked away, and for the first time, he desperately wanted her to stay. He turned back to the fire lonely without her near. The boys continued to talk, but he wasn’t listening. He stared into the mesmerizing flames contending with his awakening desire.

            Minutes later, Selena returned with a lanky stocking he recognized as one of his own, stretched to accommodate the chosen gifts for Wade. She laid it under the tree along with another few packages they had brought for Julia and the boys.

             “Good-night.  I’m off to bed. It’s been a long day.” She caught Dirk’s eye and gave him small smile, understanding more than anyone else how emotional it had been for them both.

  After banking the fire and finishing the last few nightly chores, the boys headed upstairs with Dirk lagging behind them. As he walked by Selena’s room, he slowed his pace, listening to her rustle and movement behind the door, his mind drifted to places it hardly remembered.  He stared at Thomas and Jacob ahead of him, young vibrant men with natural desires. He found himself embarrassed as he moved past her door. What kind of a man bunked in with men when he had a wife like Selena? What must they think of him? They never had as much as hinted to Dirk concerning his odd relationship. Maybe they didn’t understand that Dirk and Selena slept separately at home as well as here. No, Thomas must know. He stayed at the house to care for the animals. Could it be that the boys were too naïve to realize that separate bedrooms were not normal in marriage? Their father passed away when they were still young. Maybe they thought all married couples lived this way, or maybe they thought Selena preferred this arrangement.  A wave of guilt swept over him at jeopardizing his wife’s character this way when he knew she wished for so much more. His heart pounded in his chest. He lingered briefly by her door…then followed the boys to their room.

            Sleep escaped him for hours that night, and it was Selena, not Bert that consumed his thoughts. He tried to grapple with his emotions and fears. As he pondered the evening and the rebirth of desires that he thought were gone forever, he recalled his conversation with Jacob. He sat up in bed, bracing his back against the cold wall behind him. He needed to think. He felt that old familiar feeling, a burning intuition when he stood on the precipice of a major breakthrough on the newspaper. He remembered when with certain clarity the story suddenly unraveled in his mind, and he could relay it to his readers with passion and certainty. He wracked his brain, knowing the nugget of truth lingered just below the surface. What was it?

             He wasn’t sure how long he struggled in the search, but the revelation finally came. He understood that gnawing unsettled feeling he felt earlier that night; now it all made sense. I overlooked, ignored, and denied clear facts because I did not want to see them. He told Jacob that his emotions deceived him when he courted Elizabeth because he let his feelings determine who she was. He said he was objective with Selena, but that wasn’t true. He wasn’t objective! Not in the least; he was doing the exact same thing. His emotions, his fears from the past, were again dictating how he interpreted his wife’s character. Instead of letting the facts, her actions, her love of Wade, her adoption of his family as her own speak the truth about her character; his relentless fears obscured his perspective once again.  The revelation stunned him.

                                                                        ***

            Down the hall, Selena crawled into bed exhausted both physically and emotionally from the long day. Could it have been less than two days since they left home?  She hugged her knees to herself and looked out the window.  The earlier light snow disappeared long ago. The moon shone brightly into her window, illuminating the sleeping child next to her.  Wade’s left arm lay tucked up and over his head while his other hand, curled loosely into a fist, poked out from under the blanket next to her. His unruly hair billowed around his head framing one large lock which swirled like royalty across his forehead.  Selena smiled at his innocent cherub features. His small button nose, perfectly pursed lips, and long eyelashes that smiled in his sleep belied the fact that they belonged to the same little boy that terrorized the kitten a few hours ago.  As she watched him, he sighed, took his pudgy hand and rubbed his nose several times before shifting his sleeping body to face her in the bed.  She looked back out the window. Last year on Christmas Eve Selena could barely find the courage to face the coming day. She had cried herself to sleep that lonely night as she had so many previous nights that terrible month. Glancing back at Wade, she brushed his curly hair back from his forehead and pressed her lips on the best Christmas present she’d ever received.  She laid her head on the pillow, watched his shallow breathing rise and fall, and fell fast asleep.

Chapter 17: "A Mystifying Letter"

Late 1890's emerald green ball gown.  Ch. 17: “A Mystifying Letter”

            True to Dirk’s prediction, the temperature rose with the clouds, turning the snow to rain. By early the next morning, the glistening blanket disappeared altogether replaced by a dreary layer of mud. Selena peered out at the emerging mire enveloping the yard, thankful for her warm dry home. She turned back to her tasks.

            As only two weeks remained until Christmas, Selena needed  desperately to prepare for the holiday.  She longed to create a celebration they would all remember for years to come, but how? She shuffled through her past trying to recollect some memory to recreate, some tradition from her own childhood to embrace, but they seemed sadly missing. One night after Wade went to bed, she broached the topic.

            “Dirk, do you have any memories of Christmas as a child? Maybe some tradition we could begin with Wade?

            Dirk stopped poking at the woodstove while he thought. “None I would care to duplicate. Mom tried, but Dad’s drinking destroyed every holiday by the end of the day.” He resumed his attack on the burning embers with increased ferocity.

            Her shoulders sank in disappointment. “What about your years at Julia’s house?”

            “Now Julia knows how to celebrate Christmas.” But as soon as the words left his mouth, a wave of concern brushed his face. “I guess I should have mentioned this sooner, Selena, but we’ve always celebrated the holidays with Julia. I mean we didn’t talk, but I assumed…I shouldn’t have, but I assumed that you’d know.” He watched, waiting for her reaction.

“Oh, good.” Her face brightened. “I didn’t want to disappoint either one of you. I’m just not very good at celebrations.”

            Breathing a sigh of relief, Dirk said, “I thought I’d hire a neighbor boy to care for the animals. Maybe we could head down the hill Christmas Eve and spend the night with Julia and the boys. That’s one tradition I’ve created over the last few years. I think Julia would be disappointed not to have Wade early that morning.”

            Selena’s face beamed at the suggestion. “Perfect! I’ll ask her Sunday.”

            Dirk grimaced, “Actually, I already did.” He watched her visible disappointment. “I’m sorry, Selena, I’m not good at remembering to think collectively. In the past, I just made plans.”

Trying to lighten the mood she said, “Are there any other surprises I should know?”

He focused his attention back on the woodstove. She tensed as the room grew quiet.

“Actually, yes.”

The longer the silence hung in the room, the louder it rang in her ears. It was obvious the revelation would be difficult for him.

“I received a letter last week from Wade’s grandfather. He plans on being in town over the holiday and wants to visit.” As if to justify some inherent question, he added, “His wife died recently.”

            Selena waited as time lingered.

            Without realizing it, Dirk spoke his thoughts aloud. “I don’t want him here. I’d rather he not know where we live. Maybe I could have him to Julia’s house or meet him in town. Or better yet at Walt’s house.” He looked up at Selena. Her rapt attention prompted his memory, specifically his lack of clarity regarding his previous life with Elizabeth. He stared apprehensively, unsure how to proceed.

            Selena, aware that this conversation proved to unveil her own lack of disclosure, broached the conversation for him. “Dirk, over time, some of Wade’s past…” she paused, unsure exactly how to continue. “Your friends feel so protective of you that they’ve said very little…Not that I asked them! This isn’t going very well. Let me be brutally honest.”

            “I think that would be best,” he said testily.

            Selena prickled with his tone, feeling that she was on defense somehow. Swallowing her pride, she tried to gather her thoughts, “When we were camping, I mentioned to Cindy that I hoped to love Wade like his own mother would have,” Selena watched the sweeping pain in her husband’s eyes. She understood it now. “Your friends care for you very much, Dirk. In order to help me, but still preserve your trust, Cindy gave me some minimal facts about the situation. Julia filled in a few more details by my request, but I still have only basic information, just enough to help me with my portion of this relationship.”

            Dirk evaluated her with his unrelenting gaze. She patiently waited, staring directly into his eyes, exposing her vulnerability. She wanted to ground this relationship in the truth she knew it needed. She prepared herself to answer any question he asked to build that trust. Whether satisfaction or fear ruled his decision, she could not say, but he pursued the conversation no further. 

Nodding, he walked to the desk and retrieved the letter. “Read it. It states the request better than I could.”

            Unfolding the stiff paper, she sat down on the couch and began.
 

            Dirk,
                  I imagine the arrival of this letter brought speculation, and I wager a good deal of
              surprise.    Believe me when I say that I hope this letter finds you well and in a            
              better place then I presently find myself. Two years ago you lost the worst part
             of your life. To date I’ve lost everything. Last month, I buried Beatrice.
             As you can imagine, Elizabeth’s death affected her deeply. Unfortunately,that was
             just the beginning of our sorrows. Six months ago my advisors informed me that
             my daughter’s choices continue to haunt me, even from the grave. Apparently,
             the man that she chose to replace you embezzled the remaining securities I still held 
             at the bank. Upon hearing the news of our financial ruin, Beatrice suffered a
             stroke; she never recovered.
                I arrive in Portland, on the 23rd of this month to sell the house in order        
             to liquidate my estate and pay off my debtors. If you could find it in your
             heart to forgive a broken man, I desire to see my only grandchild one last time
             before I leave. Please do not deny me this small request. He’s truly all that I
             have left good in this world.

                  Bert Nelson      

                Frankly, I expect little compassion from you, nor do I deserve any, but if some
                fragment of goodwill stirs you during this holiday season, I can be reached at the
                Imperial Hotel.  

            Attuned to sorrow, the message touched Selena She looked at Dirk sympathetically. “I’m sorry. This must be a very difficult decision for you.”

            Dirk continued to gaze at the blazing fire raging before him, akin to his own enflamed thoughts. “I hated him, Selena.” His voice, though low, spoke surprisingly devoid of the emotion she expected him to feel. “Elizabeth’s father encouraged her deception. With no regard to me, he knowingly contributed to her betrayal of our family. Now, suddenly family matters to him. Why?  I ask myself over and over, why I should care, when he didn’t? But remarkably, I do.”He hesitated and then continued, “For years, I despised him. Just a few short months ago, I would have rejoiced to hear news of his ruin. I would have thought it a just reward.” Looking up at her astonished, “But I don’t! Truthfully, I actually pity him. Like you, his brokenness affected me.” Replacing the poker back into its proper place, he stood up and looked at her. “He’s right, you know. I only lost the worst thing in my life. I never thought of it that way, but it’s true. I’ve prayed about this most of the morning, and then as I read the Bible, the words pierced me. Basically, the verse I read said that we are corrupt, objects of wrath, selfishly pursuing our own way,” he paused, “but this is the part that got me.” Picking up his Bible, he rustled through the pages and read. "But because of His great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy,” he stopped and looked at her. “Rich in mercy to those who do not deserve it! God understands, Selena. And then it struck me, I’m no better than Bert. I’m deceitful and selfish, just perhaps in different ways.” He continued, “And even knowing all this about us,” he read again, “‘God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions!’ Don’t you see? I don’t deserve mercy from God any more than Bert does, but if God can be rich in mercy to me, how can I not do likewise? Then, I continued to read, and the Bible told me why: ‘to show the world the incomparable riches of His grace.’ Selena, I’m still a journalist, but I’m to tell a new story-His grace to me.”

            Crossing the room to look over his shoulder, she said, “It’s so personal! I never thought of the Bible that way.

            Pointing to the page before him “I felt like God spoke right to me. Selena, I think I should give Bert a chance to know his grandson. I’m not sure I could face God knowing I denied such a small request when He showed such undeserved compassion to me.”

            They sat in silence for some time before he continued. “If I met Bert at the hotel, would you go with me?” His eyes pleaded with guarded hope. “I thought about asking Walt, but he might encourage me in a different direction. I want to forgive, Selena. I want to remember that God forgave me, and I think your presence will remind me of that fact. You understand loss. You understand suffering, but you’ve also showed me how to move past its crippling power.”

             “Yes. I’ll go, Dirk.”

            They sat quietly for some time before Dirk continued, “What would you think if we went into town the day Bert arrives and spend the night with Walt and Cindy? They’re always begging me to come. The next day we could meet Bert at the hotel. It will be Christmas Eve, so we can just head to Julia’s after that on the way back home.”

            Selena hesitated briefly before continuing, “Dirk, would you mind if I ask you a personal question? Tell me if you don’t want to talk about it,” she followed with a hasty appeal.

            He nodded, but she sensed his caution.

            “Julia told me that Elizabeth’s parents sent you an article about her death, but I’m sure you confirmed that somehow.”

             He admired her keen insight  and nodded. “Matt,” came his apt reply.

            “Matt?” she responded with amazement.

            “He may be a little rough around the edges, but that man possesses a heart of gold. When he heard from Walt that Elizabeth died, he hopped a train telling us, Walt, Cindy and I, that he wanted to visit family, but really he detoured by a day’s travel to personally verify the story. Of course, no one in town knew him or even of me for that matter, so he passed incognito. He spent several days traipsing through the town and brought me newspaper clippings to confirm the news. Selena, it meant the world to me. I’ve thought of him as a friend ever since. People write pages in the story of your life.” He found himself echoing the pastor’s words; they sounded so fitting.

            “Was it hard?” Selena continued cautiously.

“How do you mean?”

  “Well, sometimes I find that certain events spark memories. Hard memories. Often when I least expect them. I imagine learning of her death brought back some of those back for you.”

  He stabbed the wood with vengeance. It sputtered angrily. “Yes, it did. Painful ones, ones I thought I had dealt with, but, of course, I hadn’t.” He took a deep breath before continuing his rare vulnerability. Like water cresting the top of an embankment, the feelings flowed over in a steady stream. “I’m still dealing with them: bitterness, anger, but even worse- satisfaction. Satisfaction over the justice of her death and then guilt over feeling that way towards someone I professed to have loved. I buried my feelings for years rather than acknowledge them. I think talking to the pastor has helped me finally face them. This verse helped me see my situation from God’s perspective. I’ve never looked at life that way before. My response to Bert’s letter gives me hope that I’m changing.”

            They each retraced their conversation silently before he continued. “Selena, if you’re willing, I’ll write Walt tonight.”

            His depth of wisdom, his simplistic faith, and this intimacy stunned her silent. She nodded her head, unable to say anything more.

                                                                        ***

            As December 23rd approached, Selena found herself anxious. I’m dreading this trip. Although her conversation with Dirk encouraged her with its depth of sincerity, there still remained so many unanswered questions. Ones she feared to probe. The most pressing: whether Bert knew of her existence. She imagined he did not. This worried her. 

            Looking for consolation, she found herself wandering down the lane to Laura’s home. Sarah, Laura’s youngest, met the bundled pair at the door whisking Wade upstairs to be pampered and entertained by herself and her sisters for the next hour or so.

            The aroma of bread baking in the oven permeated the house. Sitting over the steaming cup of coffee before her, she marveled at the warmth and comfort she always felt here. She looked around. A quilt mottled with hues of red, yellow, and blue draped the wall, softening the hewn wooden timbers. She found herself relaxing.

            Without indulging too much of Dirk’s personal background, Selena shared her foreboding reservations concerning the upcoming meeting. Laura listened patiently.

 “Selena, why does it matter what Bert thinks about you? It seems to me that if Dirk wants you there, that’s the important thing.”

            “I know, I know.” She shook her head in agreement. “I keep telling myself that, but my heart refuses to listen. I guess it’s just that I’m so self-conscious. I’m not educated, Laura; I’ve never in my life interacted in society. The small town I lived in as a youngster had one doctor. As he rarely even delivered a baby, I never saw him. Bert was a rich banker in a large city. The banker from my little town spent most of his time running the town hall and anything else that happened to involve a little money; he wasn’t prestigious. I know nothing about the city. Departing and arriving at the train station was the only time in my whole life that I’ve ever been to a city. I feel totally inadequate to meet this man! I’ve heard a little about Dirk’s first wife, and even from the grave she intimidates me. Beautiful, distinguished. Look at me!” She looked up frustrated by fear, “For that matter, I don’t have clothes suitable. It will immediately be evident that I do not belong.” Her uncertainties spewed from her like the rainwater pouring down the ravines on the side of the road. As it raced with gravity, the intensity churned up debris, clouding the water until it tumbled with needles, pinecones and branches diverting the flow into dangerous directions.

            “Whoa, there.” Laura tried to slow down the destructive path. “First of all, what makes you think that Dirk wants you to belong? Selena, you said that Dirk lived in the city for years, and yet he asked you to come along. I know Dirk enough to know that he would never intentionally embarrass anyone; he obviously thinks you’re capable. So think so yourself. Enjoy the experience together.

                                                                        ***

            Laura’s reassuring words shored up Selena’s courage a few days later as the wagon rumbled through the streets of the city. Bundled in warm blankets, Wade sat wedged between Dirk and Selena mesmerized by the sights around him. She couldn’t blame him; the buildings towered above them on each side of the road. She arced back her neck to see just how high they soared.

             In the street people bustled from store to store finishing their final Christmas shopping. Decorations embellished the windows enticing them to linger for one last look. Too soon and much to her disappointment, the wagon turned away from the outer city limits to Walt and Cindy’s home in the prestigious King’s Hill district. 

            “My goodness, these are beautiful homes.” Selena stared at the brick facade on three story homes that graced the lane. “Have they always lived here?”

“No, they moved here just a year ago.” As if to answer her unasked questions, he said, “Cindy’s father left her quite an inheritance when he passed away a few years back.”

            The horses slowed in front of one such affluent home. Small faces with flattened noses pressed against the glass peered out of the window. Instantaneously, they disappeared to announce the awaited arrival to their parents. Before the weary travelers even reached the door, the excited children opened it for ‘Uncle Dirk’. Clamoring voices overwhelmed Wade who tugged insistently at Selena’s skirt. Peering down at his anxious little face, she scooped the frightened child into her arms, giving him the advantage of distance and height to evaluate the high-strung strangers. But it took only minutes for the children to entice their new playmate down to join in the fun.

            As Dirk and Walt unloaded the wagon, Cindy led Selena up the spacious staircase to two adjoining rooms prepared for the guests. Selena had never seen such luxury. Dramatic drapes hung by the windows. A fire burned invitingly before several chairs and a table in a small alcove of the bedroom. When Dirk brought in her leather suitcase, she unpacked her dress. Shaking out the creases, she hung it in the wardrobe hoping it would recover by morning. 

Cindy watched Selena unpack the dated dress. Mentally, she perused her own wardrobe for a replacement. Not exactly the same size or build as Selena, she settled on an emerald- green velvet dress worn before her pregnancies. Yes, that would be lovely and flattering to our unique features. Now the difficulty, how to suggest the idea discreetly.

            The couples visited in the parlor for hours after the children went to bed, but soon even the blazing fire could no longer keep the room warm enough to tempt them to stay. While the men checked the animals one last time, the women headed upstairs to bed. As they passed Cindy’s room, she grabbed Selena’s hand and pulled her toward her own wardrobe.

            “Selena, I remember the first time I went to the Imperial Hotel. I wore this luscious green velvet dress. It looked beautiful blended against the Christmas decorations. Would you like to try it?” There, it was out; clumsy, to be sure, but the best idea I can conjure up. The gracious friend gathered the garment in her hands and handed it to her guest.

            Selena appeared surprised, but the tale did not fool her. “Thank you, Cindy.” Lifting the heavy material, she held it up for length. God provided for her every need. She gave her friend a heartfelt squeeze.

Chapter 16: "Winter"

Photo by Jyoti Roy Ch. 16: “Winter”

             Dirk’s intertwined fingers cradled his head as he lay in bed. He stared blindly in the dark as he considered all that the pastor had said that day. Friends. He had never thought about developing a friendship with Selena. It seemed nonsensical, but it was true. He married Selena to mother his child, but of course he could see now that the mutual union necessary to raise a child required, no demanded, a friendship between the parents. Alright, a friendship then. I can work on that. But how did one go about making a friend? A quote by Aristotle, memorized years earlier in school, whispered in his mind. Wishing to be friends is quick work, but friendship is a slow ripening fruit.  He mulled over the truth of that statement. To be certain of its validity, he created a mental list of his closest friends. They were few. He thought about each one. It’s true. Each friendship took time, often years, to develop, and if I were honest with myself, it was the difficulties, whether in work or in life, that deepened those relationships. I can’t think of one friendship that happened instantaneously. Maybe the secret to his relationship with Selena lay hidden in this simplicity: being open to friendship and letting time and life develop the rest.

A dull thud on the ceiling disrupted Dirk from his dozy stupor. Overhead, a floor board creaked and groaned as footsteps moved across the floor. Dirk was awake now. Curiosity honed attentiveness. The soft pattering continued across the floor and then stopped abruptly as she paused to open her bedroom door. It squeaked a reprimand at being disturbed. All was quiet for some time before he perceived her soft tread on the steps. Dirk shifted slightly in the bed to get a better look. He peered through the open doorway. Selena’s shadow lurched erratically across the floor until she reached the braided rug in the parlor. He smiled to himself; the kitchen floor must have felt like ice. Now, he could see her. Reaching down into the wooden box, she wrestled a log out from among the tangled pieces and shoved it into the woodstove. Wade’s room must have been too cold.  Selena studied the stove, warming her hands while she waited for the small blaze to roar to life. Assured of her success, she turned and glanced out the window.

            The bright moon, illuminating the room for his benefit, beckoned her to the window. He heard her gasp, ‘snow’. She pressed her nose against the pane and in her excitement fogged up the glass.  Her view obscured, she stepped backwards, and took her hand up like a small child to draw a picture in the lingering residue. As she stood there, the drafty frame began to take its toll. She gathered the shawl drooping around her lower back. Grasping it tightly around her shoulders with one hand, she used the other to lift her long hair trapped beneath the garment. The hair escaped as she shook her head to hasten its departure. Why does her hair always affect me?  He felt guilty watching, but hidden from view, he indulged his senses.  In the shadowy light, the hair billowed down her thin back in soft cascading waves. Selena spun suddenly to head upstairs and  approached Dirk’s dark room. He slunk deep into the feather bed in case she should peer into his dark abyss and perceive the small trickle of snow melting from his cold heart.

***

            When Dirk awoke the next morning, the frosted windows declared with certainty the weather change outdoors. Radiant light streaming through the icy crystals indicated the presence of snow before he could even see it through the glass. He rose, dressed, and entered the kitchen. The sun glistened brightly into the room, intensified by the brilliance of white on the ground.  Bundling up with several extra layers, he opened the door to assess his journey to the barn.

                                                                        ***

            Selena woke up with the excitement of a child. Rushing into her son’s room she said, “Wadey, come see what God put on the ground!”  Her exuberance ignited her son’s.

            “It’s a beautiful day, Mama.”

            She smiled at him. Whenever Wade wanted to get up in the morning, he would exclaim that it was a beautiful day. He somehow assumed that statement guaranteed a quick escape from the confinement of his bed. She laughed at his ingenuity. Scooping him up with his blanket in tow, she brought him to the window. He blinked in the blinding light. “So pretty, so pretty!”

            “Let’s hurry and eat, so we can play in the snow, Wade.”

            “Mama, play?” he questioned.

            “Yes, Wade, Mama will play too”

            Finished with breakfast, Selena dressed them both for the chilly weather and laughed as her son waddled clumsily to the door.  Only his eyes peered out from among the layers wrapped snugly around his head and neck. Those dark eyes doubled in size when the gust of bitter wind swept in through the open door. 

“Brrr! Wadey’s cold.” The young boy looked skeptical of this new adventure.

Selena coaxed him onto the front porch. Lifting him down the stairs, she stood her son in the midst of the snow. Wade reached down and touched the magical dust with his improvised mittens made out of old socks.  He patted the white powder, and then gathering up a pile, he tossed it into the air. It swirled in the breeze.

            “Look Wade, Mama can make a ball.” Patting the snow into a compact mound, she threw it into the air.  He giggled as it sunk immovable into the powdery mixture at their feet.  Reaching down and retrieving it, she rolled it forward. He tried to follow her, but his short bundled legs refused to move, and he fell, face down into the cold snow.  Rescuing him, she flipped him onto his back and showed him how to wave his arms and legs. When he was done, she lifted him in her arms. “See the angel in the snow?” she asked.

             Looking at the barn, Selena had an idea. She set to work building a wall. Wade enjoyed building the massive structure in the snow. While he increased the height of the wall, Selena began an ammunition supply. 

            Working fervently, she failed to notice the barn door open. Dirk watched amused as the pair erected the fortress clearly directed as defense against the barn. Well, so be it. If war is what they expect, war is what they’ll receive.

            Slipping out the barn door, he ducked around the corner of the building. Rolling a large ball of his own, he took aim and launched it between the busy warriors. A cry of surprise splintered the air followed by a wail of tears from the unsuspecting child.  Selena gathered Wade onto her lap and hid behind their feeble wall of defense.

“Oh, honey, it’s alright. Look, Wade, look over there.” She pointed at Dirk standing boldly in view, proud of his apparent success.  Tears ended quickly when the young boy understood the game. Selena set Wade down and fired a series of snowballs directly at Dirk. He ran for cover. As Wade’s small attempts at hitting his father barely made it over the wall, it became apparent quickly that they would lose. Selena kept Wade busy flinging premade balls while she desperately rolled an enormous new weapon of her own.  Recognizing that the accurate blows of Selena’s had ended, Dirk peeked out around the side of the barn and saw little lobs of snow plopping over the wall; he knew to whom those belonged. Selena was up to something!

            He decided to take this window of opportunity. With a resounding war cry, Dirk plowed through the wide open gap to attack his foes. Hearing the cry, Selena stood up.  She grabbed her latest ammunition and flung it desperately at her assailant just as Dirk galloped over the side of the fortress. Bracing his shoulder against the attack, the large snowball shattered, creating a blizzard blinding them all.  Scooping up his son, he rolled into the snow, yelling, “Papa won; papa won!”

Wade giggled in delight at his father’s exciting entrance over the fort. Crawling over onto Dirk’s stomach, he said, “Papa, I like snow!”

                                                                        ***

            That fondness was short-lived. Stripping off the wet clothes minutes later, the tears began. As the blood began to circulate through Wade’s cold hands, they itched and stung simultaneously.  Exhausted from the ordeal of tears, Selena warmed up soup on the stove and cuddled with Wade on the couch with a book and a blanket.  Dirk found them there minutes later both fast asleep.  Ladling up his lunch, he settled into the overstuffed chair and watched the pair.  Wade lay curled in Selena’s lap while her head tipped back against the sofa angled softly over his like a guardian angel.  As his look lingered on the pair, Selena awoke.  Stretching the kinks out of her neck she seemed surprised to find an audience.

“Have I been asleep long?”

“I doubt it, but Wade looks like he might be. I’ll carry him upstairs.”

            She shifted slightly forward on the couch and let Dirk carry her warm bundle away. The cold air swept in to fill the void his body left, and she gathered her sweater around her tightly to replace the vacant warmth.  Groggy from her shortened nap, she remained on the couch until Dirk returned empty-handed. 

            “Looks like his first experience with snow tuckered that guy right out?”  Dirk said.            Standing up and shaking out the folds of her crumpled dress, Selena approached the window. “The snow is still coming down strong.  Reminds me of home.”

            “It’ll be gone by tomorrow,” Dirk spoke with assurance.

            Selena spun on her heel to face him. “Really?”  

            “Sure, it’s already warming up out there. I bet Julia doesn’t even have any snow down the hill.”

            “My goodness, I can’t get over the difference in your country.  I mean, I know it’s all the same country, but it really is so unlike home. In Illinois, the first snow lasts most of the winter. Each new storm adds another layer until the piles grow as high as your waist, sometimes higher.”  Her own memories shadowed her thoughts like a dark cloud passing in front of the sun. He watched it sweep across her eyes and then lift away.  He longed to ask the cause, but his own fear of her intrusive reprisal hampered his inquisitive nature. But contrary to her usual privacy, she exposed her thoughts for him.

            “Johnny loved the snow. People in town paid him to shovel their paths, sometimes with money, sometimes with a cookie and hot chocolate. He loved being needed.” Her thoughts drifted back to another time, another life, as she stared vacantly out the window.

            Dirk watched his tormented wife, akin to obstinate memories that invaded the privacy of his world when he desperately longed to rid them from existence. To distract her, he changed the subject. “You’re wonderful with Wade, Selena. I probably never would have taken the time to bundle him up to play in the snow.”

            Sensing his sincerity, she continued hesitantly, “I lost my little boy.”

            Dirk struggled to understand, “You mean your husband?”

            “No, our child.” She waited for what seemed an eternity. “I’ve not told anyone…” she hesitated, “…for years, I guess. Weeks before the accident, I lost our son prematurely. He wasn’t due for several months, but he came anyway.  I cried for days. Johnny promised there would be more children, but of course, there never would be.” Her mind drifted behind that ominous cloud once again.  “You can imagine how angry I was at God for taking them both.” She paused, deep in her endless past. “But time unveils truth; I realize now that I never could have raised a child and took care of John.  God knew better.”

            Her simple faith astounded him.

            “Taking care of Wade fills me with joy. Dirk, I can’t tell you how happy he makes me. I feel like God gifted me back the little son I lost.”  Relieved for a time of the repressed memories, she rose to move on with her day. 

            Dirk grabbed her hand as she walked by. He couldn’t help himself, it seemed instinctive.

“Selena, I’m sorry. I know this might sound insensitive, but it helps to know that others understand your pain.”

            She nodded, “God knew we needed each other, Dirk. We didn’t, but He did. That brings me comfort.”  Awkwardly realizing that he still held her hand, he let it drop while he rose from his chair. She hesitated to see if the conversation would continue; it didn’t, but it satisfied.