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Authors: Carolyne Aarsen
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asked, her helpful question pushing a conversational
wedge through this quiet moment between me and my husband. Anneke pulled away, making Dan lower his hand from my neck and
our little warm family moment cooled.
“We could get some seeds at the co-op. It wouldn't take that long.” She had obviously given up on her face-off with Judy,
but I didn't have Judy's background or forcefulness. I was still working my way through the maze of family relationships here
and trying to find my place. But I resented feeling like I was failing a test I hadn't studied for.
“Might be too early to plant yet,” Judy intervened.
“I'm putting my garden in next week,” Wilma insisted.
“What's your hurry, Mom?” Judy pushed back. “Lay off the poor city girl. She doesn't know about gardening.”
“I've planted a few things,” I said, feeling torn between accepting Judy's offhand definition of me and Wilma's push to assimilate
me completely into rural life.
“And they all died,” Dan said with a light laugh.
“Not right away,” I protested.
Wilma and Gloria didn't need to laugh nearly as loud as they did. Judy shook her head at her brother's humor.
“I doubt it's that bad,” Judy said.
That's it. In my new will, Judy's getting my diamond earrings.
“I'm good with the greenhouse, but death on house-plants,” Judy complained.
And
my opal necklace.
“I think that's why my houseplants died,” I said. “They got jealous and died of spite because I spent more time fussing over
patients than I did over them.”
“You won't have to worry about that now,” Gloria said. “I'm sure you're looking forward to taking time away from your job.”
“I liked being a nurse,” I said. “I know I'll miss it.”
“Yes, but now that you're on the farm, wouldn't you rather stay home and putter around the house?”
“I never perfected the fine art of puttering,” I said with my own feeble attempt at a joke.
“Judy could give you a few tips,” Dayton said, pulling himself out of his conversation with Gerrit. “Didn't you give a course
on that at the ag fair last year?”
“That was pottery.” Judy rolled her eyes and turned to me. “You'll have plenty of time to come and visit us if you're home
all the time. I could teach you to sew if you want. We could have a lot of fun.”
“I don't know about fun,” I said slowly. “All that cutting and pinning. I doubt I can be trusted with so many potentially
lethal instruments.”
“Leslie was the kind of child who ran with scissors,” Dan put in, giving me a gentle poke.
“Sewing is a good way to save some money on clothes,” Wilma said. “You might want to think about it.”
No pressure from the family here. Sewing. Gardening. Who did they think I was? Ma Walton?
“And if you're not going to be working, that is something to consider,” Gloria put in. “Farming is a wonderful life, but there
isn't always a lot left over when all the bills are paid.”
“Great, Gloria,” Dan said with forced jocularity. “You're going to make her think we're two checks away from being broke.”
“Been there,” I muttered. And from the looks of the check we were getting from Wilma each month, we were still only a few dollars
from “there.”
Dan shot me a hurt look, and I regretted my quick tongue. I reached over to lay my hand on his arm, to recapture the moment
we had shared earlier.
“Anneke, can you come to Oma?” Wilma's quiet request pulled Anneke off Dan's lap and brushed my arm aside and the chance was
gone. “Could you get me the Bible?”
Bible? Low-level panic struck again. Was I supposed to have it handy? I knew we had our own around somewhere. Someone from
Dan's church had given us one on our wedding day.
Anneke danced toward her grandmother, then stopped, looking puzzled. “What's a Bible, Oma?”
Wilma's eyes cut to Gloria, who lifted her perfectly plucked eyebrows in a “What did you expect?” expression I couldn't
wedge through this quiet moment between me and my husband. Anneke pulled away, making Dan lower his hand from my neck and
our little warm family moment cooled.
“We could get some seeds at the co-op. It wouldn't take that long.” She had obviously given up on her face-off with Judy,
but I didn't have Judy's background or forcefulness. I was still working my way through the maze of family relationships here
and trying to find my place. But I resented feeling like I was failing a test I hadn't studied for.
“Might be too early to plant yet,” Judy intervened.
“I'm putting my garden in next week,” Wilma insisted.
“What's your hurry, Mom?” Judy pushed back. “Lay off the poor city girl. She doesn't know about gardening.”
“I've planted a few things,” I said, feeling torn between accepting Judy's offhand definition of me and Wilma's push to assimilate
me completely into rural life.
“And they all died,” Dan said with a light laugh.
“Not right away,” I protested.
Wilma and Gloria didn't need to laugh nearly as loud as they did. Judy shook her head at her brother's humor.
“I doubt it's that bad,” Judy said.
That's it. In my new will, Judy's getting my diamond earrings.
“I'm good with the greenhouse, but death on house-plants,” Judy complained.
And
my opal necklace.
“I think that's why my houseplants died,” I said. “They got jealous and died of spite because I spent more time fussing over
patients than I did over them.”
“You won't have to worry about that now,” Gloria said. “I'm sure you're looking forward to taking time away from your job.”
“I liked being a nurse,” I said. “I know I'll miss it.”
“Yes, but now that you're on the farm, wouldn't you rather stay home and putter around the house?”
“I never perfected the fine art of puttering,” I said with my own feeble attempt at a joke.
“Judy could give you a few tips,” Dayton said, pulling himself out of his conversation with Gerrit. “Didn't you give a course
on that at the ag fair last year?”
“That was pottery.” Judy rolled her eyes and turned to me. “You'll have plenty of time to come and visit us if you're home
all the time. I could teach you to sew if you want. We could have a lot of fun.”
“I don't know about fun,” I said slowly. “All that cutting and pinning. I doubt I can be trusted with so many potentially
lethal instruments.”
“Leslie was the kind of child who ran with scissors,” Dan put in, giving me a gentle poke.
“Sewing is a good way to save some money on clothes,” Wilma said. “You might want to think about it.”
No pressure from the family here. Sewing. Gardening. Who did they think I was? Ma Walton?
“And if you're not going to be working, that is something to consider,” Gloria put in. “Farming is a wonderful life, but there
isn't always a lot left over when all the bills are paid.”
“Great, Gloria,” Dan said with forced jocularity. “You're going to make her think we're two checks away from being broke.”
“Been there,” I muttered. And from the looks of the check we were getting from Wilma each month, we were still only a few dollars
from “there.”
Dan shot me a hurt look, and I regretted my quick tongue. I reached over to lay my hand on his arm, to recapture the moment
we had shared earlier.
“Anneke, can you come to Oma?” Wilma's quiet request pulled Anneke off Dan's lap and brushed my arm aside and the chance was
gone. “Could you get me the Bible?”
Bible? Low-level panic struck again. Was I supposed to have it handy? I knew we had our own around somewhere. Someone from
Dan's church had given us one on our wedding day.
Anneke danced toward her grandmother, then stopped, looking puzzled. “What's a Bible, Oma?”
Wilma's eyes cut to Gloria, who lifted her perfectly plucked eyebrows in a “What did you expect?” expression I couldn't
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