Fiction Friday: The Farmer’s Daughter Chapter 26

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn fiction, Fiction Friday8 Comments

I’ve been finishing up editing and final drafts of Quarantined this week, so I wasn’t sure if I’d share a chapter this week, but I guess this chapter is fairly finished enough to share. It will probably go through three more drafts before I’m completely finished with it. I’m looking for Advanced Readers for Quarantined who would be willing to read it and add a review for it on Amazon when it is released, so please let me know if you are interested.

To catch up with the rest of the story of The Farmer’s Daughter click HERE or the link at the top of the page.

The inside of the barn next to the birthing stall was warm, a shelter against the chilly night air, the sweet smell of hay filling Molly’s nostrils. She leaned against the top rail of the gate around the stall and smiled at the newborn calf walking on unsteady legs in the hay around her mother.

She reached through the gate and gently rubbed the head of the light brown Jersey cow named Dandelion. “Good job, Mama. Good job.”

Watching the calf be born had been what she needed to take her mind off her worries, at least for a little while. She’d been lucky enough to walk in the barn just as the calf’s hooves were starting to appear. While she’d wondered at first if she might have to help Dandelion deliver her first calf, in the end the mother cow had done it all on her own and Molly had only had to wipe the afterbirth from the calf’s nose.

It hadn’t been her first time seeing a calf being born but it had been one of the first times she’d paused and really watched the calf try to walk and interact with her mother. Propping her chin on her hand she realized that the last half hour, watching the calf being born, then the new mother and her baby, had been the only time in the last week her mind hadn’t been racing.

She had definitely been thinking about Alex during the last week, but she’d also been worried about Liz, the farm, her grandmother, and her own future. Once the calf was born, she did what she should have done all along. She’d closed her eyes and asked for God’s help.

“I’m leaving this all in your hands, Lord,” she’d whispered.

She knew she would steal her worries back again at another time, though. Like always, shed have to pray the prayer a few more times before she finally let it all go.

The sound of footsteps drew her eyes from the new family to the doorway, and she was surprised to see Alex walking toward her. He’d left hours ago, looking exhausted after a long day of work. Wearing a thick brown corduroy coat with a white wool collar and his brown cowboy hat, Molly thought he looked like he should be on the front of a romance novel.

He and Jason had been busy cutting down corn all week and she’d been busy with Hannah updating the farm stores inventory. Seeing him now, looking amazing, his eyes bright as they watched her, caught her emotions off guard and made her realize how much she’d missed him, or rather, how much she’d missed being held by him.   

He hadn’t shaved in a few days and though she’d once found that unappealing in a man, it somehow made him even more attractive.

He stepped next to her, sliding his hands in his front jean pockets.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he said with a grin. “What a nice surprise.”

She smiled and lightly touched the wool along the collar of his coat.

“You look cozy. What are you doing out here?”

He tipped his head and smiled sheepishly. “Well, I started wondering about Laurel too – if she’d had the calf yet.” He shrugged. “I’ve only been here a couple of times when it happened, and I guess I wanted to see it again. Were you here when it was born?”

Molly nodded and then smiled. “It was pretty cool. Watching a new life come into the world always is.”

Alex leaned on the fence and looked in at the calf as it walked on unsteady legs and looked for its mom’s udder.

The cow leaned down and started licking the calf, cleaning it with her long pink tongue.

“Heifer or a bull?”

“Heifer,” Molly answered.

“Ah, good, then this one gets to stay.”

 After a few moments Alex turned from the fence post and sat on the barn floor next to the support beam, leaning back against it. He patted the floor next to him. “Come. Sit with me. I’ve barely seen you all week.”

She accepted the offer, exhausted from a long day and tossing and turning part of the  night. He slid an arm around her, and she welcomed the warmth his body gave off as she leaned against him. She’d only worn a thin sweater when she’d left the house, not realizing how cold it was outside.

“I can’t believe how cold it is,” she said with a yawn.  “It’s only the beginning of September.”

He nuzzled her cheek. “I don’t mind. It means I have an excuse to cuddle you more.”

She smiled and looked up at him. “I’ve missed you this week.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

He slid his hand in hers and intertwined his fingers with hers. “How’s it going at the store?”

“Good.” She laid her other hand over his. “We’re expanding some of our products, offering some handmade furniture for sale, working with local artists to draw people into the store and also bring the artists some business. I think it’s really going to give the store the shot in the arm it needs. Aunt Hannah is talking to Dad and Uncle Walt about adding a small café with homemade baked goods and sandwiches and soups.”

He smiled. “And coffee?”

“Of course, we will offer coffee. If we decide to move forward with it. Right now we aren’t sure how we’ll pay for it and we know a loan isn’t an option since we still have the first one to pay off.”

He pulled her close again and kissed the top of her head.

“It will get paid off. There has to be a way.” Silence settled over them for a few moments and Molly yawned.

He looked over at her again. “So, hey, I’ve been wanting to ask you, what’s going on with Liz?”

She tilted her head to look over at him. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I saw you two leaving the hospital last week when I was leaving the gym and I just wondered if Liz was okay. Or . . .” He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “You’re okay, right?”

She shifted so he could see her amused grin. “First, yes, I’m okay, but second, you were at the gym?”

He laughed softly and she enjoyed watching pink spread across his cheeks.  “Yeah. Just thought I should try to get in shape a little more. Plus, it helps me get my mind off things. But, don’t change the subject. What’s up with Liz?”

You really don’t have to get in shape, You’re already in fine shape, she thought remembering how she’d noticed his toned bare arms earlier in the week when he’d been driving the tractor across the field to cut down the corn. She decided she wouldn’t bring that up at the moment. She was having too much fun watching him squirm.

“What do you have to get your mind off of?”

He shook his head, then smirked. “Next subject.”

“But —”

“Tell me about Liz first.”

Molly sighed, tipping her head back against the column.

 “This going to bring the mood down a bit. You sure you want to know?”

A look of concern furrowed Alex’s brow. “Is she sick?”

Molly shook her head. “Not exactly. No.” She grimaced softly. “She tried to kill herself.”

Alex’s eyebrows shot up. “She what? How?”

“She took a bunch of pills, but she panicked and called an ambulance.”

“Why would she do something like that?”

Molly bit her lower lip then released it. “She’s pregnant. With Gabe’s baby.”

Alex’s expression definitely showed his shock. “Gabe? That moron who cheated on her and —”

“Yes, but you can’t tell anyone,” Molly said quickly. “Especially, Matt. Liz told me it was okay to share with my family, and you, but she really doesn’t want other people to know. Especially Matt. She’s completely embarrassed and ashamed.”

Alex blew out a soft whistle. “Wow. That’s heavy. She’s keeping the baby, right?”

Molly nodded. “I don’t think she wanted to at first, but I said I’d help her. We’re talking about getting an apartment.”

Alex shook his head. “That’s crazy. Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”

“Liz promised me I wouldn’t tell anyone. It was so hard not having anyone to talk to about it, though. I was terrified, shocked, so afraid I might say the wrong thing to her. I really could have used some advice about how to handle it all.”

Alex lifted her hand and kissed the top of it. “You’d never say the wrong thing. You’re her best friend.” His expression was serious again . “How are you handling it all?”

Molly shrugged, lifting her head again. “I’m definitely worried about Liz. It totally freaks me out that I could have lost her, first, but second, I — well, let me clarify first. I don’t want to be in the situation Liz is in. I definitely am not ready for a baby and I definitely don’t want to be starting parenthood as a single mom, but,” Molly bit her lower lip and rolled her eyes up to the top of the barn. “it sounds so weird, but I feel like life is passing me by. Neither Ben nor Liz have started families the way I would, but they’re living life, real lives. They’re experiencing life and I’m just . . . floating along.”

Alex smiled and pushed her hair back from her face. “But now you’re floating along with me. That’s different, right?

“Yes.” She turned her body toward him more. “Yes it is. And it complicates things because sometimes I want to experience life with you in other ways.”

Oh my gosh. He’s going to think you’re talking about marriage. Molly, stop talking before he runs away screaming.

“At the same time, I don’t want to have the same regrets Liz has about the ways. . .” He was watching her with an ambiguous expression. Where was she even going with this? She needed to stop talking. Now. Or five minutes ago really. “. . . um. . . the ways she has experienced life.”

She bit her lower lip and closed her eyes. “Oh, my word. I’m so sorry. I’m not making sense.”

Alex laughed softly, turning his body more toward hers. “Actually, you are making sense. To prove that point, let me tell you about why I’ve been going to the gym.”

She opened her eyes slowly and his smile had faded. He sighed and tipped his head back. After a few moments he tipped his head back up and looked at her, deciding to be open with her.

“I work out to take my mind off you.”

Molly tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want to think about me?

“I do but I think about you too much and when I think about you, I think about how much I want to be with you.”

She smiled, rubbing the top of his hand. “You are with me. Every day in the barn.”

“No, I mean…be with you. In other ways. In . . . um . . . ah.” He laughed and looked out through the open barn door, rubbing his chin. “In other more intimate ways.” He looked at her, tipping his head like he was looking down his nose over a pair of glasses.  “Shall we say?”  

Heart pounding fast in her chest, she drew her breath in sharply and held it. She was catching his drift now.

“Oh.”

She’d never imagined anyone wanting to be with her in that way. The fact he’d said it and was now looking at her with such an intense expression made her feel slightly lightheaded.

“You seem surprised. Are you surprised that I think of you that way or that I’m fighting not to think of you that way?”

“Uh. . .both?”

His smile returned as he laid his other hand over hers. “I definitely think of you that way, but . . .” He pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t want to rush things with you Molly.”

She nodded slowly, her eyes locked on his. “I understand.”

“I hope you do because I think that’s what you were trying to say about how Liz and Ben started their families. They rushed things. They took some steps out of order and you want to experience life, but you don’t want to experience it in the wrong order. Am I right?”

Molly nodded again as he reached up and cupped his hand along her jawline. “You’re different than any other woman I’ve ever met, Molly. You’re special. I’ve been really immature in the past when it comes to women and broke some hearts, including my own. I’d never forgive myself if I broke yours. You’re too important to me. I want to take things slow with you. Do this right.”

He laughed softly as she watched him, her dark green eyes wide and her gaze unwavering. He wished he knew what she was thinking. She look terrified and suddenly what was funny for one moment wasn’t in the next.  His smile faded. Maybe he’d made a mistake telling her how he felt.

What if he messed up everything with her? Including their friendship. What if he failed at taking things slow? Because right now, with her so close to him, her body warm, her lips amazingly kissable, her skin so soft against his hand, taking things slow didn’t seem very appealing.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have kissed you that day on the overlook.” The words came out of him before he even fully thought them through.

Hurt and confusion immediately registered in her eyes. “I’m sorry?”

He knew he needed to clear up the confusion he’d caused as quick as possible. “I wanted to kiss you. I’d wanted to for a long time. That’s not it.

She tipped her head slightly to one side. “Then what do you mean?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have stirred up those feelings in you.” He looked away again, down at his fingers intertwined with hers. “I’m not good enough for you, okay? I’m sort of messed up. I don’t want to mess you up too.

When he looked up at her again a few seconds later, the hurt had faded, and softness replaced confusion as she reached up and laid her palm against his cheek. “How are you messed up?

Alex shook his head, looking away again. “I just am.”

“Look at me, Alex.”

He didn’t want to look at her. He couldn’t bear for her to see the vulnerability in his eyes. He was already feeling like a sappy fool. He moved his gaze to hers, though, curious about what she wanted to tell him.

“I’ve worked with you for five years,” she said softly. “I’ve gotten to know you pretty well. I feel like you and I have shared some pretty intense moments and also some really stupid ones. Besides Liz, I think of you as one of my closest friends. Yes, sometimes you drink too much, you flirt too much, and sometimes you seem a little closed off, but I still don’t see how you’re messed up.”

Alex raised his eyebrows. “You, uh… you know about the drinking?

“Yes, and the women. My grandma calls them ‘those blond floozies.’”

Alex laughed softly, shaking his head. “Then why are you even sitting here? You know I’m a mess. Apparently, Franny also knows I’m a mess and I’m going to try not to think about how she knows about my dating history.”

Molly moved closer, her hand still on his face.

Why did she have to move closer? He was having a hard enough time focusing on taking things slow as it was. His gaze dropped to her mouth briefly, then moved back to her eyes.

Focus, Alex. Focus.

“Yes, but you’re a beautiful mess,” she whispered. “and I don’t think those things you do are who you really are. I think you do those things to forget you’ve been hurt and pretend you never have been.”

Alex swallowed hard, staring at this beautiful woman he’d fallen for. It was as if she could see straight through him and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Tears stung his eyes for the first time in years and he turned his head quickly, taking her hand in his and sliding it away from his face, holding it against his chest instead.

For God sake he was not going to cry in front of Molly.

He swallowed hard, trying to hide the emotion in his voice. He couldn’t hide his feelings from her, though, and he knew it. He looked at her, captivated by the way she watched him, the tenderness in her eyes and voice when she spoke.

“You didn’t wake anything in me, Alex Stone. It was already there. I was just too afraid to believe you could ever feel the same.”

She leaned over and touched her lips to his briefly, then moved her head back slightly and smiled. He pushed her hair back from her face, cupping his hand against her cheek, caressing it. He wanted her to kiss him again and hoped he could control his emotions when she did, sticking to what he’d told her about taking things slow.

She moved her head closer again and his resolve to take things slow began to crumble. Her mouth against his felt amazingly right as he pulled her closer.

Caught up in the moment his hands slid down her back, across her side and along her hip, inching toward her thigh. Molly reached down and lifted his hand from her thigh and pressed it against her waist.

“If we are going to move slow, you’re going to have to be careful with those hands,” she whispered with a grin.

He laughed as he leaned in to kiss her again. “Yes, ma’am.”

Losing track of their surroundings as the kiss deepened neither of them heard the creaking of the barn door opening. It was the sound of someone clearing their throat loudly that startled them both. Alex pulled away quickly from Molly, turning his head toward the open barn door. Robert stood with his hands on his hips, his face flushed red.

Alex jumped to his feet and yanked his hat off, holding it to his chest, but wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t in church and the national anthem wasn’t being played but somehow Alex felt like he needed to show respect to the man who had been more like a father to him than his own.

 Of course, kissing the man’s daughter in a dark barn in the middle of the night probably wasn’t the best way to show that respect.

“Umm. . . .Hey, Mr. Tan—”

Robert looked at Alex with raised eyebrows.

“Hey, Mr. Tanner? Hey, Mr. Tanner?” Robert’s tone definitely revealed a level of anger Alex hadn’t yet seen in the man in the five years he’d known him. “You just had your hands all over my daughter and now it’s ‘Hey, Mr. Tanner?’”

Alex held his hat in front of him, rolling the rim tight against his palm.

“Uh…. Yes?”

Robert thought the vessels in his neck might burst. Molly brushed hay from her jeans as she stood. Her cheeks flushed warm under her father’s fiery gaze and her legs wobbled like wet dishrags.

“What the – how long has this – when did you even – “

Robert slapped his hand against his thigh. He was so shocked and angry he couldn’t even talk.

“Mr. Tan-”

“How far has this gone?!” Robert suddenly bellowed. “I mean what have you been doing with my daughter and for how long, Alex?”

“Oh, sir, I haven’t – I mean we haven’t – I mean it’s only been —”

Alex couldn’t believe he was having this conversation with the father of the woman he’d just been kissing. He struggled for words, feeling more like a teenager than a 30-year old man.

Robert’s gaze only seemed to intensify. “It’s only been what, Alex?”

Alex looked at the barn floor, rubbing his hand across his chin.

Robert didn’t like the small smile playing across his mouth.

“It’s just been hugging and . . . um . . .” He shrugged. “Some kissing.”

Robert’s heart pounded fast and hard in his chest. He briefly imagined himself having a heart attack right here in his own barn with his daughter and hired hand watching him. Would they call an ambulance, or simply leave him there while they continued their make out session?

“And?” Robert urged Alex to elaborate while also not wanting him to elaborate.

Alex looked up and the mischievous smile was gone.

“There is no ‘and’, sir,” he said firmly. “It’s just been kissing. I swear to you. I never took advantage of Molly that way, sir.”

Robert looked at Molly, whose head was tipped down toward the barn floor, red spreading across her cheeks.

“Molly?”

She looked at him and he saw a mix of fear and sadness in her eyes.

“It’s only been kissing ,” she said softly, her eyes rimmed with tears.

Robert tossed the gloves he had been holding at the barn wall, not sure if he believed them and not sure if his daughter was crying because she’d been caught, because she was lying, or because she wished there had been more than kissing.

Good, Lord, he couldn’t even believe he was thinking such a thing about his baby girl. Hadn’t he just been teaching her how to ride her bike yesterday? But she was almost 27 — next week in fact. She wasn’t a baby anymore. He had to accept that she was a — he could barely think the words, let alone say them —  a grown woman.

He wanted to curse, but hadn’t cursed since he’d started going to church more regularly ten years ago.

“Mr. Tanner, I —”

“Stop, calling me Mr. Tanner, Alex.” Robert’s jaw tightened as he spoke, his words clipped. “Call me Robert already. You’ve always called me Robert before.”

Alex took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “Robert, I know this doesn’t look good, but I promise you we were only kissing, and we were kissing because I kissed Molly and I didn’t kiss Molly just for fun. I kissed – have been kissing Molly —”

“Been kissing Molly?” Robert’s eyebrows shot up again. “And how long have you been kissing my daughter?”

Alex cleared his throat again.

“Off and on for a few weeks,” he said talking quickly, nervously scratching the back of his head. “But that’s not really the point. The point is —”

“Yes? What is the point?” Roberts eyes narrowed.

“The point is I care about Molly very much. I care about her and . . .” Alex looked at Molly, who was looking at the barn floor. “I love Molly.”

Molly raised her eyes and met Alex’s gaze.

“I love Molly,” he said again as their eyes locked, the corners of his mouth tilting upward.

Robert looked between his daughter and his hired hand and shook his head. He didn’t know how he felt about all of this, but he knew he couldn’t leave them alone in the barn with the way they were looking at each other. He felt too young for grandchildren.

“Alex, I think you need to go – uh – cool down a little and get a couple hours of sleep.” He said. “It will be milking time soon soon.”

He turned toward his daughter. “Molly, go to the house and we’ll discuss this more tomorrow, or later this morning as it stands now.”

Alex started toward Molly but caught Robert’s warning expression out of the corner of his eye.

“Go, Alex.”

“Yes, sir.”

Alex winked at Molly and walked into the darkness toward his truck.

She walked around her dad, clutching a flashlight. “Molly?”

She stopped the doorway and looked at her dad. “Do you feel the same way about Alex that he does about you?”

She lowered her eyes and nodded, terrified at how much she did feel the same about Alex.

“Go to bed,” Robert said softly.

He leaned against the stall and let out a heavy sigh. He had a lot more things to think about now than a pregnant cow.

***

Alex snatched his phone from the seat next to him as he drove. His mind was racing as he thought about how he’d just told Molly he loved her, in the most unconventional way – in front of her father while her father glared at him from across the barn.

“You love me?”

The sound of her voice on the other end of the phone sent a rush of energy through him. He had a feeling he wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight. Pulling his truck into the driveway of his and Jason’s house he laughed softly. “Yes, I love you, Molly Tanner.”

“Were you just saying that to get out of trouble?”

“I don’t think telling your dad I love his little girl after he caught me making out with her in his barn is a way to get out of trouble. I think it actually dug me in further.”

She laughed softly and he could tell she was trying to be quiet. Was her dad standing behind her with his arms folded across his chest, a shot gun hanging on the wall behind him like in one of those old movies? The thought of it made him want to laugh because he knew that wasn’t the Robert he knew. Then again, he’d never been caught kissing Robert’s daughter before.

“I love you, Alex.”

“I love you, Molly. Get some sleep.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

He laughed. “Me either.”

Book Review: Hadley Beckett’s Next Dish by Bethany Turner

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn everyday musings, What I'm Reading5 Comments

Some books ooze the personality of the author and I think Hadley Beckett’s Next Dish is one of those books — if Bethany Turner’s social media accounts are any indication of what a fun, hilarious person she is in real life — and I think they are.

First the Goodreads description for the book:

Celebrity chef Maxwell Cavanaugh is known for many things: his multiple Michelin stars, his top-rated Culinary Channel show To the Max, and most of all his horrible temper. Hadley Beckett, host of the Culinary Channel’s other top-rated show, At Home with Hadley, is beloved for her Southern charm and for making her viewers feel like family.

When Max experiences a very public temper tantrum, he’s sent packing to get his life in order. When he returns, career in shambles, his only chance to get back on TV and in the public’s good graces is to work alongside Hadley.

As these polar-opposite celeb chefs begin to peel away the layers of public persona and reputation, they will not only discover the key ingredients for getting along, but also learn the secret recipe for unexpected forgiveness . . . and maybe even love. In the meantime, hide the knives.

Fan-favorite Bethany Turner serves up a heaping helping of humor and romance with this thoroughly modern story centered on cooking, enemies, and second chances.

My thoughts:

I really enjoyed the lighthearted moments woven among some tender, difficult memories and realities for the main characters — Hadley Becket and Max Cavanaugh, both high-profile chefs. Hadley was definitely the one with more of a sense of humor, while Max was more of the “grump”. As you read you realize that some of Hadley’s humor is to cover insecurities and hurts and that Max’s grouchy tendancies are for the same reasons. Attempts to cover flaws with their moods aren’t the only similarities the pair have, of course, something readers learn as the book continues.

I’m always impressed with Bethany’s way with words. She is a master of using humor, cultural references, and yet, still keeps her fiction free of swearing, sex, or violence.

She’s also a master at descriptions. One of my favorite descriptions in this book was how Hadley described the way Max’s shirt fit him: “The T-shirt sleeves strained just slightly to their resting point mid-way down his bicep, and with his arms crossed over his chest, as they were now, you could almost hear an audible sigh from the front of the shirt, as it was allowed a moment to relax from the tightness that Max’s well-toned chest and shoulders usually created.”

These days we need something light and romantic to distract us and Hadley Beckett’s Next Dish is the perfect way to do that. Find out more about Bethany on her Instagram and Facebook accounts or her website: http://seebethanywrite.com/

More of autumn and burning Dad’s hat

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn everyday musings29 Comments

My daughter flopped back on her back in our backyard the other night, looking up at leaves brilliant red and orange and declared, “I love fall.” A few moments earlier, though, she had told me she didn’t like Fall because “I don’t like when everything dies.” About-to-be-6-year olds are fickle, I suppose, but they’re also starting to think deep at that age, which I don’t really like.

I thought I’d share a few more autumn photos today to distract us all from the tension in the world these days.

I also thought I’d share the photos of my dad’s farewell to his old straw hat, which was in very rough shape and he decided had to go.

We had a very solemn (not really) ceremony where we burned the hat while playing funeral music, saluted it, and then talked about the fact that it was probably over 100 years old and maybe we should have saved it afterall.

My son even cried at one point – or so we thought. It turned out he had smoke in his eyes.

Randomly Thinking: Week of September 27

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn Randomly Thinking15 Comments

You’ll notice this week that it’s all starting to get to me by a couple snippy random thoughts. Bear with me. I just need a bit of a vent then I should be okay. Luckily I had some funny thoughts too the last couple of weeks.

I think selfies with a face mask are pointless. There, I said it. How do we know who is behind the mask, both literally and figuratively?

  • I guess my mom and I are reading too many romances on Kindle Unlimited because I keep getting ads for these cheesy, ridiculous cliche romance novels on the front of my Kindle. It’s always some shirtless buff man and he’s always “the bad boy” who “she wants to make good.” Good grief. This is why women don’t have realistic expectations for relationships. They read too man romance novels where the woman actually changes the man. That’s not reality folks. Escapism is good, but those type of books make me want to facepalm everytime I see them.

My dad is 35 years older than me and he has unending energy. I wish he could bottle it up and give me some. He and my son went for a bike ride in the hills of Pennsylvania, picked up an old couch for my brother, made several stops, got home late and the next morning my dad was up at the crack of dawn, ready to go and do more. It’s exhausting just watching him some days

  • My adult cat is like a moody teeanger, spending much of her day glaring at us all. My kitten is like a speed addict – bouncing all over the walls and furniture and then crashing hard when she comes down from her high.
  • I asked my husband to edit my novella (Quarantined). I told him to feel free to fully edit it (like for content) and not just copy edit it (like for typos and grammatical errors). It came back with words, lines, and sections scribbled out. Ouch. Next time I’m telling him to refrain from going into full-on editor mode (which used to be his day job). Seriously, I’m really excited for him to actually help me tighten up my work. I hope he will do it with The Farmer’s Daughter too.

  • There is nothing more depressing than seeing a photo from my local library with the aisles roped off with signs that say “Do not enter.” Heartbreaking. I miss being able to look at and pick out books on my own.
  • I don’t think a lot of 6-year olds talk like mine. “I just love these pants! They are so lightweight and soft and comfortable.” Lightweight?!

I think one of the worst ways to combat racism is to tell people that marrying outside their race is “a betrayal to their race” or mocking people for adopting children outside their race. It really feels like some people are trying to drag us backwards back into the early 1960s. Jesus, come quickly. We’re not improving. We are getting worse.

  • I’m addicted to watching reaction videos to Marc Martel performing Queen songs. It’s so much fun to see first-time reactions to his voice and how he sounds so much like Freddie Mercury. This was a new one from this summer and the look of delight on the man’s face was fun to watch.
  • I didn’t watch any news for three days for my birthday weekend and continued into the next week and it was wonderful. Our world really is a dumpster fire right now so I extended it another few days. I like my head in the sand since I can’t trust the media to tell me the truth anymore. This video explains how I feel about ALL national media right now (yes, Fox and CNN and everyone else).

I had no idea that the author George Eliot was actually a woman named Mary Ann Evans until two weeks ago. In related news: I was never assigned a George Eliot book to read in high school or college. I did however have to read 1984, Hiroshima, and The Awakening.

So what are your random thoughts for the week? Let me know in the comments.

Sunday Bookends: Changing leaves, Hadley Beckett is not a boy, and Matthew Macfayden is no Colin Firth

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn everyday musings14 Comments

Sunday Bookends is my week in review, so to speak. It’s where I share what I’ve been up to, what I’ve been reading, what I’ve been watching, what I’ve been listening to, and what I’ve been writing. Feel free to share a link or comment about your week in the comments.

What I’m Reading

How awkward it was when I ordered a book for my birthday and thought that the main character was a man because I was too clueless to know that the name Hadley is a girl’s name. Ha! But truthfully, I didn’t care what sex of the main character was because so far I have enjoyed both of Bethany W. Turner’s other books and knew I would enjoy this one too. I enjoyed Hadley Beckett’s Next Dish as much as Wooing Caddie McCaffery and more than The Secret Life of Sarah Hollenback (though that was a fun one too).

This book followed the same “formula” so to speak as Wooing Caddie McCaffery, with one chapter written in the first person and focusing on Hadley Beckett, the sweet Southern belle chef, and cooking show host, and the next being written in the third person and focusing on the unlikely love interest of chef world cad Max Cavenaugh. I am not usually a fan of books that switch point of view once you get into it but Bethany does it in such a creative way I don’t mind it with her books. It’s her style and it works for her. I probably wouldn’t try it with another author.

For those who might be interested in the book, here is the Goodreads description:

Celebrity chef Maxwell Cavanaugh is known for many things: his multiple Michelin stars, his top-rated Culinary Channel show To the Max, and most of all his horrible temper. Hadley Beckett, host of the Culinary Channel’s other top-rated show, At Home with Hadley, is beloved for her Southern charm and for making her viewers feel like family.

When Max experiences a very public temper tantrum, he’s sent packing to get his life in order. When he returns, his career in shambles, his only chance to get back on TV and in the public’s good graces is to work alongside Hadley.

As these polar-opposite celeb chefs begin to peel away the layers of public persona and reputation, they will not only discover the key ingredients for getting along but also learn the secret recipe for unexpected forgiveness . . . and maybe even love. In the meantime, hide the knives.

Fan-favorite Bethany Turner serves up a heaping helping of humor and romance with this thoroughly modern story centered on cooking, enemies, and second chances. 

Next week I’ll offer my own review of the book in a separate post.

I’ve been trying to find another book to enjoy reading as much as I did Hadley’s story. So far I’m trying different books, looking for the happier reads, and rejecting anything that starts out with tragedy or death. Or if not rejecting, taking my time to read them so I have only small slices of depressing subjects to read. Two books that so far deal with some sad topics but that I’m still trying are Down Where My Love Lives by Charles Martin, which is two novels in one (The Dead Don’t Dance and Maggie.) and Just Like Home by Courtney Walsh. Walsh writes mainly romances so I’m gathering this one is a romance.

For some reason, I am also still pushing through The Cat Who Said Cheese by Lillian Jackson Braun, even though it is terribly boring and isn’t featuring Qwilleran’s cats Koko and Yum-Yum enough.

What I’m Watching

I watched the 2005 version of Pride and Prejudice with a group of sweet romance authors and readers Friday night. We were commenting back and forth about the characters, plot, but mainly the actors or how the movie was directed and that’s when Facebook started blocking us from commenting. Facebook is like a lot of people in this day and age — they ruin everything and take the fun out of life.

Luckily we were all still able to post status updates within the discussion and converse back and forth. Bethany Turner, the author I mentioned earlier in this post, was on with us and hilariously argued that the 2005 version was not as good at the 1995 BBC mini-series, which starred Colin Firth.

I had to agree with Bethany Turner, who is a massive Colin Firth fan, that Matthew Macfayden is no Colin Firth and that I much preferred Colin’s Darcy. All this to say that I’m not necessarily a huge fan of Jane Austen or her movies, but it was fun watching it with a group of women so we could all make fun of the movie, or swoon in some parts, at the same time.

As per our usual pattern of being behind the trend, we finally saw Hamilton on Disney Plus this week as well. We enjoyed it and it is brilliant, but I didn’t like the last half-hour as much as the first two hours. Yes, it was 2 hours and 40 minutes. This was my favorite song, but sadly, I can never listen to it again because it was stuck on a loop in my head all week after watching it. (Sorry ahead of time for the cheesy graphics on this one. It was the only clip of the song I could find.)

What’s Been Occurring

Nothing much has been happening this week. It’s been pretty routine. Homeschool, errands, cooking meals, working on my novella and novel. Blah, blah, blah.

Little Miss has a new friend who she’s been seeing a few times a week. The little girl’s great-grandmother, who lives at the end of our short street, watches her during the week and sometimes on the weekends. I’m glad to have a little friend for my daughter because she hasn’t had any real friends her age for most of her life. I had actually prayed the week before that God would send her some children her age for her to play with. I’m regretting that prayer a little bit because it means walking her back and forth between my house and my neighbors a few times a day, but I’m still glad to see her learning how to play well with others.

It has been nice to watch our trees change from green to brilliant orange, red, and yellow almost overnight. The trees in our backyard were a dull orange at the beginning of the week and by Saturday morning they were on fire with colors.

Sunday Bookends is my week in review, so to speak. It’s where I share what I’ve been up to, what I’ve been reading, what I’ve been watching, what I’ve been listening to, and what I’ve been writing. Feel free to share a link or comment about your week in the comments.

What I’m Reading

How awkward it was when I ordered a book for my birthday and thought that the main character was a man because I was too clueless to know that the name Hadley is a girl’s name. Ha! But truthfully, I didn’t care what sex of the main character was because so far I have enjoyed both of Bethany W. Turner’s other books and knew I would enjoy this one too. I enjoyed Hadley Beckett’s Next Dish as much as Wooing Caddie McCaffery and more than The Secret Life of Sarah Hollenback (though that was a fun one too).

This book followed the same “formula” so to speak as Wooing Caddie McCaffery, with one chapter written in the first person and focusing on Hadley Beckett, the sweet Southern belle chef, and cooking show host, and the next being written in the third person and focusing on the unlikely love interest of chef world cad Max Cavenaugh. I am not usually a fan of books that switch point of view once you get into it but Bethany does it in such a creative way I don’t mind it with her books. It’s her style and it works for her. I probably wouldn’t try it with another author.

For those who might be interested in the book, here is the Goodreads description:

Celebrity chef Maxwell Cavanaugh is known for many things: his multiple Michelin stars, his top-rated Culinary Channel show To the Max, and most of all his horrible temper. Hadley Beckett, host of the Culinary Channel’s other top-rated show, At Home with Hadley, is beloved for her Southern charm and for making her viewers feel like family.

When Max experiences a very public temper tantrum, he’s sent packing to get his life in order. When he returns, his career in shambles, his only chance to get back on TV and in the public’s good graces is to work alongside Hadley.

As these polar-opposite celeb chefs begin to peel away the layers of public persona and reputation, they will not only discover the key ingredients for getting along but also learn the secret recipe for unexpected forgiveness . . . and maybe even love. In the meantime, hide the knives.

Fan-favorite Bethany Turner serves up a heaping helping of humor and romance with this thoroughly modern story centered on cooking, enemies, and second chances. 

Next week I’ll offer my own review of the book in a separate post.

I’ve been trying to find another book to enjoy reading as much as I did Hadley’s story. So far I’m trying different books, looking for the happier reads, and rejecting anything that starts out with tragedy or death. Or if not rejecting, taking my time to read them so I have only small slices of depressing subjects to read. Two books that so far deal with some sad topics but that I’m still trying are Down Where My Love Lives by Charles Martin, which is two novels in one (The Dead Don’t Dance and Maggie.) and Just Like Home by Courtney Walsh. Walsh writes mainly romances so I’m gathering this one is a romance.

For some reason, I am also still pushing through The Cat Who Said Cheese by Lillian Jackson Braun, even though it is terribly boring and isn’t featuring Qwilleran’s cats Koko and Yum-Yum enough.

What I’m Watching

I watched the 2005 version of Pride and Prejudice with a group of sweet romance authors and readers Friday night. We were commenting back and forth about the characters, plot, but mainly the actors or how the movie was directed and that’s when Facebook started blocking us from commenting. Facebook is like a lot of people in this day and age — they ruin everything and take the fun out of life.

Luckily we were all still able to post status updates within the discussion and converse back and forth. Bethany Turner, the author I mentioned earlier in this post, was on with us and hilariously argued that the 2005 version was not as good at the 1995 BBC mini-series, which starred Colin Firth.

I had to agree with Bethany Turner, who is a massive Colin Firth fan, that Matthew Macfayden is no Colin Firth and that I much preferred Colin’s Darcy. All this to say that I’m not necessarily a huge fan of Jane Austen or her movies, but it was fun watching it with a group of women so we could all make fun of the movie, or swoon in some parts, at the same time.

As per our usual pattern of being behind the trend, we finally saw Hamilton on Disney Plus this week as well. We enjoyed it and it is brilliant, but I didn’t like the last half-hour as much as the first two hours. Yes, it was 2 hours and 40 minutes.

What’s Been Occurring

Nothing much has been happening this week. It’s been pretty routine. Homeschool, errands, cooking meals, working on my novella and novel. Blah, blah, blah.

Little Miss has a new friend who she’s been seeing a few times a week. The little girl’s great-grandmother, who lives at the end of our short street, watches her during the week and sometimes on the weekends. I’m glad to have a little friend for my daughter because she hasn’t had any real friends her age for most of her life. I had actually prayed the week before that God would send her some children her age for her to play with. I’m regretting that prayer a little bit because it means walking her back and forth between my house and my neighbors a few times a day, but I’m still glad to see her learning how to play well with others.

It has been nice to watch our trees change from green to brilliant orange, red, and yellow almost overnight. The trees in our backyard were a dull orange at the beginning of the week and by Saturday morning they were on fire with colors.

What I’ve Been Writing

I finished Quarantined here on the blog last week and shared a hodge podge of chapters from The Farmer’s Daughter. I’m now in the middle of rewrites and editing of Quarantined with a hopeful publication date of Oct. 10 on Kindle. My husband is both content and line editing it for me and I hope he can do the same after I rewrite and edit The Farmer’s Daughter this winter.

Photos of the Week

Fiction Friday: The Farmer’s Daughter Bits and Pieces

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn Fiction Friday4 Comments

Truth be told, this weeks chapter is pieces of two chapters as I’m reworking parts of the story. This week I’ll include a snippet between Molly and Robert but also a snippet that will be in Jason’s novella later. I’m looking forward to fleshing out Jason’s story but also his and Ellie’s characters in a novella I plan to call The Farmer’s Son. That will also allow me to focus more on Robert and Jason’s relationshp.



To catch up on the full story click HERE.

Crickets chirped and fireflies blinked in the field.

There was a chill in the air and Molly knew before long winter would arrive and bring with it cold nights and even colder mornings in the barn. Local farmers, including her dad, were already preparing to cut down the dying corn stalks to eventually grind up for feed.

She buttoned her sweater and pushed the porch swing a little to make it sway as she looked out into the dark, thinking about Alex and remembering their kiss from the day before. He’d been right; working together in the barn after that passionate half hour had been awkward. They did their best not to smile too much in front of Jason or her dad or Cody and the other workers who came in and out of the barn throughout the rest of the day.

She did  her best not to smile when his hand grazed her arm as he handed her the pitchfork and he told her later that night on the phone he’d done his best not to grab her, pull her into a stall and kiss her again.

“We’ll be having our first frost before we know it.”

She looked up to see her dad walking out of the darkness from the direction of the barn.

“Not looking forward to the snow, that’s for sure,” she said, though she couldn’t help think how nice it would be to cuddle Alex close on a cold winter night, if they could find somewhere to cuddle without anyone else seeing. She wondered how long they’d keep their relationship secret, or how long they’d be able to. Watching her dad wince as he walked onto the porch and sit on swing next to her, she also wondered how her parents would feel about her and Alex.

“Knee bothering you again?”

Robert shrugged. “It’s always bothering me. A lot of people have it a lot worse.”

“You could slow down a little.”

Her dad looked at her with a mock look of disgust. “And why would I want to do that? Sounds boring to me.” He smiled and slid his arm around her shoulder and hugged her against him. “Plus, I have too much work to do to make sure we pay off this loan in time.”

Molly sighed. “Oh yeah. That.”

Robert reached his other arm around her and hugged her tighter, propping his chin on the top of her head as she rested her cheek against his chest.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the loan before, kid. I didn’t mean to keep things from anyone. I guess I just got cocky. Walt and I both did. We thought we’d be able to pay it off and . . .” Her dad sighed. “and never have to tell anyone we’d sunk the business so far into a hole in the first place, I guess. Apparently, we forgot about Luke 8:17. What is hidden will be seen. And what is out of sight will be brought into the open and made known.”

Molly hated hearing the guilt in her dad’s voice. “You were trying to help, not deceive, Dad. It’s going to work out somehow. Besides, now that we all know we can help find a way to pay it off.” She sat up and looked at him, smiling. “No man is an island after all.”

Robert laughed softly. “Good reminder kid. I guess I just got too wrapped up in wanting to fix it all myself. I thought I could protect the family from the struggle.”

“We’re a family. We’re supposed to struggle together.”

He slid a strand of her hair behind her ear and cupped her chin in his hand. “How did you get to be so smart?”

“I learned it from watching you and mom, you know that.”

He shook his head. “More like your mom.”

She sat back against the swing as he let her face go and together they tipped their heads back and looked up at the stars scattered against an almost pitch black sky.

“Molly?”

“Yeah?”

“I know you won’t always want to stay here with me and your mom. When you’re ready, it’s okay with us. You know that, right?”

“Yeah. I do.”

“Okay. Just checking.”

***

He hadn’t even noticed her standing in the doorway. Not at first anyway. When he did notice her, he couldn’t stop his eyes from sliding over her slender figure cradled in a low cut, tight black tank top, and a blue denim skirt with a hemline that hovered a few inches above her knees. A pair of black, calf high boots completed the outfit.

“Hey, Jason. You looked good out on the field today.”

She bit her lower lip, watching him pull a gray t-shirt over his head and down across his bare chest and then growled softly in approval. “You look good now too.”

There had been so many nights over the years, especially recently, when Jason closed his eyes and saw her in his mind’s eye, hating himself all over again.

Lauren Phillips.

Tall. Blond. Shapely.

Attractive like Ellie but totally opposite in her personality and tone. Ellie’s sweetness was natural, God-given, and genuine. Lauren’s sweetness was an act, a way to get into the heads of men she’d set her sights on and had decided she wanted to conquer. At least that’s how he saw her looking back.

Still, no matter how many ways Jason tried to villainize Lauren, he knew he couldn’t. He’d made the decision to accept her offer, to let her attention lull him into what he’d hoped would be a pleasure filled distraction from the distorting thoughts ruling his brain that third year at college.

He and Ellie had decided to take a break from their relationship before he left for his sophomore year of college. Actually, Ellie had decided. He’d simply agreed because he’d thought she would change her mind in a couple of months. She didn’t and he didn’t try to change it for her. Maybe he should have. He was completely lost without her – without her friendship because that’s what their relationship was — a friendship as much as it was a romantic relationship.

Jason had been brought up in a Christian family, taught that a person was supposed to live within boundaries that God set for them. But those boundaries felt suffocating and boring while he was at college and he wondered if the boundaries were worth it. The boundaries kept him focused on what he didn’t, and couldn’t have. That’s how he felt then anyhow

When Lauren kissed him that night after a party, pulling him toward an open bedroom door in her apartment, he knew he was crossing a boundary he’d set for himself years ago and he didn’t even care anymore. For that brief time, he forgot who he was and it felt amazing.

At first it felt amazing.

Then the guilt set in like a heavy chain around his neck.

It had all been so rushed. The alcohol had blurred his senses, confused his thoughts, tossed him into a world of chaos. She was dressing before he’d even had time to wrap his mind around it all.

He’d woke up a few hours later in his dorm room, Alex standing over him, his expression mixed with concern and confusion.

“Hey, Jase. You okay?”

He’d moved in with Alex at the beginning of the second semester of his sophomore year to remove himself from the peer pressure of living with a bunch of football players in a frat house downtown. Alex, who he’d met his freshman year during an English Lit class hadn’t offered him the break from temptation he’d been hoping for.

Alex had talked him into visiting bars, meeting women – meeting Lauren. Part of him could have blamed Alex like he tried to blame Lauren, but none of it had been either of their fault. He’d made his own decisions and now he had to live with them.

While he had decided that short time in college that his Christian beliefs cut all the fun out of his life, he had later realized that fun without boundaries could lead to dire consequences.

He’d almost lost his football scholarship that year after showing up late to too many practices and showing up more than once with a hangover. He avoided Lauren after their encounter in her bedroom, ignoring her phone calls and telling her that one night she’d knocked on his dorm room door that he had homework to do.

“I guess you got what you wanted,” she snapped, arms folded across her chest, standing in the doorway as he tried to close the door. She lifted an eyebrow and smirked. “Or maybe I just got what I wanted.”

He refocused himself for the remainder of that year and for the next year after that. All he wanted was his degree so he could learn how to make sure his family’s business survived and then he would go home to the farm. During the second half of his junior year he also realized he wanted to go back to Ellie. Along with God she was an anchor for him and he’d let go of them both and it had sent him spinning out of control.

Alex’s reaction to his mortified feelings after sleeping with Lauren were less than supportive. At least at first.

“You got with Lauren Phillips? That girl is hot. She wouldn’t even give me the time of day. What have you got that I don’t?” Alex slapped the back of his hand against Jason’s right bicep. “Oh yeah…these.”

Jason vomited in an empty container from the Chinese restaurant.

Alex made a face. “You’re throwing up after sleeping with a hot woman? Is it the alcohol or maybe you need to tell me something else? Like maybe you don’t like women? Maybe you like —”

“Alex!” Jason wiped his hand across his mouth, looking for a paper towel to clean himself off. “I like women. I am definitely attracted to women. That’s not it. If it was, I wouldn’t be in this situation right now.”

“What situation? Wait. Didn’t you use —”

“I just mean the whole Lauren situation. Geeze, Alex. Don’t make this worse than it is.”

Jason sat back, pressing his hands to his face. “I’m not the kind of guy who just jumps in bed with a woman I don’t even know. You know that.”

“You mean like me?”

“That’s not what I meant, I just mean that I wanted to have a connection with the woman I – with whoever I first — I mean…”

“Oh.”

Alex wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t want to make fun of his friend for this revelation for a couple of reasons. One, he admired Jason for his integrity, his morals, and his sense of romanticism, even if he didn’t have any of those himself. And two, he liked his front teeth and didn’t want Jason to punch them out of his head.

Alex shrugged scooting himself back onto the top of the dresser, his legs hanging down. “Okay, listen. You made a mistake. That’s all. It’s not the end of the world. Just cut Lauren loose and take some time to think about things. About what you really want. This is college. This where we screw up and learn our lessons, right?”

Jason had definitely learned a lesson from the experience, but he wished he hadn’t had to.

The front door slammed open and Alex stepped inside.

Present day Alex; Alex six years later but in some ways the same ole’ Alex.

He brought with him the noise of the storm outside, which pulled Jason out of his thoughts.

Alex’s clothes were drenched, clinging to him as he pushed the door closed. Sliding his cowboy hat off, he propped it on the hook next to the door, then paused and looked at Jason, sprawled on the couch on his back.

“All the lights are off and you’re listening to sad country music. This can’t be good.”

“It’s not sad music. It’s Chris Ledoux.”

“Who you only listen to when you’re sad.” A crack of thunder rattled the window and lightening lit the sky outside. “Did you talk to Ellie?”

“No, not yet.”

“So, you’re just sitting here stressing about talking to Ellie?”

Jason tipped his head back against the arm of the couch, his long legs stretched across the faded grey cushions, one arm laying across his forehead, the other one hanging off the couch.

“Yeah. That and remembering college.”

Alex winced as he pried his wet button up shirt off and tossed it toward the laundry room. “Ah, man, no. This can’t be good.”

He reached flicked the light switch for the overhead light to ‘on.’  “You can’t sit here sitting in the dark reflecting on past mistakes. It’s not healthy.”

Jason burped and reached for the can of soda on the coffee table. Alex kicked at an empty bag of potato chips. “Um…this isn’t healthy either. Where are your regular veggie sticks and protein shakes?”

Jason sighed and rolled on his side to face the back of the couch, feeling like a pouting teenager.

Alex pulled his wet tank top off and walked behind the couch toward the hallway leading to the bathroom. “Okay, listen. I’m going to go get dried off and changed. When I come back, I need you to sit up and tell me what’s going on.”

“Will you have your shirt on when you come back? Because I don’t need to see that.”

Alex scoffed and slapped his hand against his bare chest. “Of course, you need to see this. Who doesn’t?”

“You really want me to answer that?”

“Shut up.”

When Alex came back a few moments later he smacked the bottom of  Jason’s feet and told him to shove over and sit up. Cracking open a can of soda he’d grabbed out of the fridge on the way back to the living room he sat where Jason’s feet had been and took a long drink before speaking.

“Come on, man. What’s going on? Talk to your old friend Alex while you flush all that junk out of your system with this,” he squinted at the label on the water bottle. “Electrolyte enhanced mineral water.”

Jason groaned and sat up, accepting the bottle as Alex handed it to him. He leaned his elbows on his knees and sipped from the bottle, staring at the turned off television.

The rain had slowed down and the thunder was fading. The sound of raindrops against the metal porch roof filled the silence as Alex waited for Jason to talk.

“I just don’t how Ellie will feel when I tell her about Lauren.”

“I know, man, but you’ve got to tell her. It’s the right thing to do.”

Jason looked over his shoulder at his friend. “Since when did you become so ethical?”

Alex pushed his fist gently against Jason’s arm. “Since I started living with you. Blame yourself.”

Jason shrugged and nodded while he drank from the bottle of water. When he looked back at Alex he didn’t see the grin he expected to see. Instead, Alex’s joking demeanor had faded and  his expression had become serious.

“I can’t help feeling some of this is my fault.”

Jason looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Alex leaned back against the arm of the couch, propping his leg up on the coffee table and sliding an arm behind his head. “You were a good guy when you came to MU. Squeaky clean.” He shrugged his shoulders as he sipped from the soda. “I think I broke you or something.”

Leaning forward, Alex rubbed his hand against his chin, under his bottom lip. “I talked you into going to bars, into drinking. I’m the reason you met Lauren. Maybe I’m the reason you, how do you Christians say it? Compromised your morals?”

Jason laughed, shaking his head as he stood from the couch. “Alex, you didn’t force me to sleep with Lauren Phillips. I did that all on my own. I’m the one who screwed that up. It wasn’t your fault. I’m also the one who made the decision to go with you to those bars and parties.” He pushed his hands into his hair and shook his head again. “If anyone should feel guilty it’s me for not influencing you in a more positive way, telling you that you didn’t need to go out and drink way your childhood pain or find your worth in the way hot women looked at you. I should have taken you to church with me and showed you that there’s more to you than rugged good looks and a charming personality. For that matter I should be doing that now.”

Alex leaned back again and slid his hands behind his head, grinning. “So, you mean you should be my spiritual guide?”

“Well, maybe, yeah. Someone has to help you. You’re a mess.”

Alex playfully tossed a pillow at Jason’s head. “Thanks, jerk, but we’re talking about you. Not me. So, what are you going to do about Ellie?”

Jason stood with his hands on his hips, tipped his head back and looked at the ceiling. “I’m going to tell her. As soon as I get my nerv —”

And that’s when he saw her.

Ellie.

Standing in the doorway between the living room and kitchen. Her long, dark brown hair damp from the rain outside, stray strands of it clinging to the side of her face.

Jason thought his heart would pound out of his chest as their eyes met. Sweat beaded across his forehead as if he’d just worked out at the gym for an hour and his legs gave their best impression of spaghetti underneath him.

“Ellie. Hey. What are you doing here?” he asked instead of what he wanted to ask, which was: “How long have you been standing there?”

“I – uh . . .” Ellie’s voice trailed off, emotion catching her words and strangling them. She looked at the floor quickly and swallowed hard.

“The back door was open. I was going to sneak in and surprise you two with a pie I baked earlier.”

Alex straightened on the couch and cleared his throat, quickly looking at the floor. “Um. Excuse me. I have to. . . uh . . . I’m just going to go head up to bed early.”

He shot a sympathetic look at Jason, but Jason wasn’t looking at him. He was staring at Ellie, his mouth partly open, but no sounding coming out.

With one foot on the bottom step Alex closed his eyes and grimaced as he heard Ellie’s question: “Who’s Lauren Phillips?”

Extra Fiction Thursday: Quarantined Chapter 11 and Epilogue

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn everyday musings4 Comments

Welcome to the final chapter of Quarantined. To catch up with the story click HERE.

Chapter 11

John was laughing, holding one of the national newspapers that most people referred to as a “gossip rag.”

“Matt, have you seen this?”

John tossed the paper, front page up, onto Matt’s desk.

Normally Matt found himself seething with anger when he saw an inaccurate or misleading headline but this time he simply tipped his head back and laughed loudly.

“Ah, man, this press conference might be fun,” he said with a grin, tying his tie. “You think they’ll ask me about it?”

John tossed another gossip newspaper on the top of the desk and nodded. “I’d guess someone will. TMZ is covering it too.”

“TMZ? I’m not Jay-Z or Beyonce. Are you serious?”

Matt was laughing harder now as he snatched up the folder with his notes and walked briskly toward the office door. “Come on, let’s do this. Cassie, you want to watch this one? This one could be fun.”

Cassie glanced at the front page of the paper as she walked toward the door then stopped, took a few steps backward and looked at the paper again.

“Is that me? In a robe? Where was that photographer even at to get that photo?”

Her eyes were wide as she followed Matt down the hallway. “Matt, we need to install a fence and better security. That’s an invasion of privacy.”

A splattering of camera flashes and shutter clicks met Matt when he reached the end of the stairs of the capitol and stood in front of the members of the press, many of them shoving cellphones and microphones at him. Cassie and John stood behind him, listening to a variety of questions related to the current uncertain situation with a possible deadly virus moving across the country and what Matt intended to do about other pressing national security issues when the Senate was back in session.

Matt answered the questions and was preparing to wish the reporters a good day when a reporter called to him.

“Representative Grant, is it true that while you were supposed to be quarantined with your family you had another woman at your house, in your backyard? Neighbors say they saw you kissing her and leading her into your garage.”

Several cellphones and microphones were shoved back toward him.

Matt shot the reporter a surprised expression, one eyebrow raised. “I have no idea what you are referring to Patrick. Please enlighten me.”

Patrick O’Donnell held up the paper with the photograph of Cassie straddling Matt in their backyard on the lawn chair.

“That doesn’t look like a neighbor saw me. That looks like a photographer saw me.”

Patrick pressed him. “Then you don’t deny this is you in the photo?”

“No, I don’t.”

Smirks filtered across the press pool, pens moving feverishly across reporter notebooks.

“I also don’t deny that the woman in the photo is my wife, Cassie.”

A female reporter in the front of the group rolled her eyes and shoved her pen in her pocket, clearly uninterested in the story now that she knew he’d simply been with his wife.

“She dyed her hair to try something different with her appearance. And what you see there is the culmination of a wonderful at-home date night while I was in quarantine. It was a great make out session that we later moved to the privacy of our garage so we could have amazing married sex without waking our children. Yes. There really is such a thing as great married sex.”

Cassie gasped softly and clasped her hand over her mouth. John laughed and shook his head.

“Aw man…” he said.  “Looks like the old Matt has come back to us.”

Matt’s expression was a cross between angry and amused. “Any more questions?”

Laughter spread across the press pool. Patrick’s face flushed bright red as he joined in the laughter. “No, Senator. I think that answers my question.”

Matt cleared his throat, his eyes moving across them, his smile fading.­ “With that behind us, I have an announcement to make.”

The cameras that had been turning off clicked back on. Phones were shoved toward him to record his words. Pens will slid out of pockets again.

“This will be my last term as a senator from the great state of Ohio.”

Cassie gasped for the second time in only a few minutes. Her husband was apparently full of surprises today. He hadn’t told her he was going to tell a group of national reporters about their sex life and he hadn’t told her he had decided not to run for reelection. What had changed his mind? She looked at John and noticed he didn’t have the same surprised expression on his face that she did.

“Did you know?”

He nodded, a smile tugging at one side of his mouth. He looked slightly sheepish, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck. “You mean he didn’t talk to you yet? He said he was planning to. Um . . . Yeah.  Well, we’ve been talking about it, but I didn’t know he was going to announce it today.”

“What led to this decision?” a reporter asked.

“My heart,” Matt responded with a small smile, looking up and catching Cassie’s eye.

Matt answered a few more questions then stepped away from the podium and walked toward Cassie and John, reaching for Cassie’s hand. They didn’t speak until they were locked inside the elevator with John.

Matt spoke before Cassie could. “I know. I’m sorry. I should have told you I’d made this decision, but I can’t put our family through this anymore, Cassie. I can’t put you through this anymore.”

He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her gently against him. “I don’t know what our future holds, but I am thinking private practice again. John has agreed to be my paralegal and I’ll find something for Liam to do too, some way for him to use that PR degree of his.”

“Are we going back to Ohio?”

Matt nodded. “I really think that would be best at this point, yes.” He cupped her chin in his, searching her eyes. “What do you think? I know I should have asked you before I made the announcement, but what do you think?”

Cassie smiled. “I think Tyler is going to be upset leaving his friends, but I think you made the right decision. We will all adjust.”

Matt kissed her briefly as the doors to the elevator opened. Bright sunlight pouring in from the glass doors of the capitol building bounced light off the floor and chandeliers, prompting all three of them to reach for their sunglasses.

Matt paused and turned toward John. “I’m heading home for the afternoon, John. I’ll call later and we’ll discuss this more.”

John nodded. “Sounds good. Liam and I will get the releases together for you to look at.”

Matt slid his arm around Cassie’s waist as they walked nodding at a couple members of the press, a few senators and two congressmen as they walked toward the back parking lot toward their car.

Matt lifted his phone as it rang and smiled as he read the caller ID.

“Hey, Liam.”

“What was that? I thought we were going to draft a press release when I got in this afternoon.”

“I know. Sorry. The timing just felt right.”

Liam laughed. “Classic Matt response. Seriously, it was fine with me, I just didn’t expect you to announce it so quickly. I’ll work with John on a press release with more details this afternoon. And, hey, that whole thing with Cassie was hilarious.”

Matt laughed, his hand on the door to his car. “It was but at the same time it was concerning. I don’t like the idea of the press being able to access our property that way. I think stepping out of the limelight for the next few months should help alleviate some of that until we can get back to Ohio. Anyhow, things still getting better with you and Maddie?”

“We’ve barely left this bed all morning, does that answer your question?”

Matt winced and made a face. “Dude, as happy as I am that you and Maddie are getting things back on track, I did not need to know that.”

Liam burst into laughter. “I didn’t mean it that way.” Matt could hear Maddie laughing in the background. “We’re watching movies together. That’s all. For now, anyhow.”

“Ah man, I have to go. Too much information, Liam.”

Cassie slid into the passenger seat as Matt slid behind the steering wheel.

“So, what’s the verdict? Things still getting better over there?”

“I’d say so. They’ve been in bed all day.”

Cassie made the same face Matt had made a few moments earlier. “Oh, that’s what you meant by too much information. I mean I’m happy for them, but that’s more than I needed to know.”

“He said they’re watching movies.”

Cassie laughed, flipping back a strand of her now blond-streaked brown hair. “Yeah, sure that’s all they’re doing. But good. That means that both of the Grant brother’s marriages are on the right track then.”

Matt leaned toward his wife and cupped his hand against her face, sliding his thumb along her cheekbone. “Yes. That is exactly what that means.”

Epilogue

“Pregnant? Really?”

A smiled tugged at Matt’s mouth, even though he’d considered teasing his wife for a moment and pretending to be upset at whatever important news she said she had to tell him. This announcement, though, had genuinely brought a smile to his face. Yes, the children they had were exhausting. Yes, this news was definitely a shock and surprise. But also, yes, he loved his children, they were a blessing, and if God was giving them another blessing, he was more than ready to accept it.

Cassie caught her lower lip between her teeth then let it slide out again. “Are you upset?”

“Upset? Do I look upset?” He pulled Cassie gently against him and kissed her mouth gently. “This is wonderful news, Cassie.”

“Even now, with our future up in the air? With you getting ready to leave the Senate and rebuilding your law firm?”

“Even now, Cassie.” He looked at her with a furrowed brow. “I don’t know why you’re shaking. Were you that nervous to tell me?”

Cassie nodded, tears rimming her eyes even though a smile was pulling at her mouth. “I know it was silly, but yes, I was that nervous. Not just to tell you, but what it might mean for ”

Matt wiped at the tear that escaped the corner of her eye with the palm of his thumb. “We’ll make it work. I’m not worried about that.”

When his cellphone rang he let it go to voicemail, not even bothering to see who it was. Whoever it was could call back.

Cassie wiped at the tears on her cheeks. “I wonder what the kids will think.”

“Tyler might not be very happy, but I think the girls will love the idea of a baby to take care of.”

His cellphone rang again. Cassie nodded toward it. “Maybe you’d better take that. You’re not out of the Senate yet. It could be important.”

Matt shrugged. “Doubt it.” He reached for the phone anyhow, glancing at the caller ID.

It was coming out of Washington, that’s all he knew, and it was probably Senate business, but that business could wait.

He placed the phone down again and slid his arm back around Cassie, holding her close. “I don’t have time for spam right now. I’ll listen to it later. Right now my focus needs to be on this family and,” he smiled as he touched Cassie’s belly. “This new baby.”

***

Matt rubbed his hands across his eyes and yawned. He’d been ignoring his phone and emails all day. He and Cassie had talked about the new baby, told the children, had dinner, spent some time watching a movie and holding each other and now Cassie was asleep upstairs. He’d stumbled into his office to catch up on phone calls and see what he’d been missing. One voicemail was from John, asking him to call him back, another was a call from a member of the media, and the third was from Liam, asking him about his plans for Labor Day weekend.

He reached over to click off the desk lamp as the phone rang again. He lifted it, glancing at the caller ID and yawning again. 202 area code. Someone in Washington again. He rolled his eyes, ready for his day to be over, but he decided he had better take the call this time. This same number had called four times today already.

“Senator Grant?”

“Yes?”

“Hello. Glad I finally caught you. This is Alexander Marshall, Chief of Staff for the president. We noticed on the news that you’ve decided not to run for re-election this year.”

The White House? Really? Matt definitely new Alexander’s name but he needed to feel this conversation out; make sure it was actually him.

“Um, yeah. Hello, Mr. Marshall. Yes, I felt that I’d accomplished at least most of what I wanted to do here, for my constituents and that I should —”

“We understand, Matt, may I call you Matt? And I certainly would want you to call me Alexander.”

“Yes. Sure. Of course, you can call me Matt.”

He was beginning to think this really was Alexander Marshall. He certainly had the same New York accent as Alexander Marshall.

“We understand why you’re stepping down Matt, but to be blunt, we don’t think your job is done here in Washington yet. You’ve propelled a lot of the goals of our party forward in some very high-profile ways. Listen, Matt while we here at the White House, specifically the president, respect your decision to stay home with your family, we are willing to offer you a position on the president’s cabinet, which would keep you in Washington and close to your family while also still being able to serve your country, something we know is very important to you.”

Matt sat up straighter in his chair as Alexander continued speaking. His exhaustion was fading, adrenaline kicking in fast.

“As you know the secretary of the Department of Homeland Security has stepped down and this is the position the president has personally asked us to approach you about and have you consider taking on. Would you be willing to at least consider this offer and get back to us by the end of the week with your answer?”

Matt’s mouth had gone dry. He shook his head as if to wake himself from the dream he was sure he was having. The president wanted him on his cabinet? Was this really happening?

“Uh, yes. Yes, of course I will consider it Mr. Marshall – um, Alexander.”

“Great. That’s great. I hope to hear by this week that you’ll be joining our team.”

As he hung up Matt felt a twinge of guilt. Had he just said he’d consider a job on the president’s cabinet, on the same day he’d promised his wife he’d consult everything with her from now on, especially if it affected the entire family? Indeed, he had.

 He let out a long breath. He had to talk to Cassie about this sooner rather than later. He couldn’t keep the news from her. They’d have to discuss it and make a decision.

Whatever that decision was, though, he knew they’d make it together – as a family.

Sunday Bookends: Apple orchards, birthdays, and light reading

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn Sunday Bookends13 Comments

Sunday Bookends is my week in review, so to speak. It’s where I share what I’ve been up to, what I’ve been reading, what I’ve been watching, what I’ve been listening to, and what I’ve been writing. Feel free to share a link or comment about your week in the comments.

What’s Been Occurring

We celebrated my birthday Saturday (yesterday) by traveling to Watkins Glen, N.Y and Lake Seneca, one of the seven Finger Lakes that run throughout New York, picking up some lunch and eating at a park next to the lake. We followed that with a trip to an apple orchard outside of town.

While at the park we were swarmed by some bullying seagulls who later stole our last two garlic knots while my son’s back was turned. He said one distracted him by tipping the container upside down while two others swooped down and stole the pieces of warm knotted bread drenched in garlic butter. I was in the car with Little Miss who had decided the 58 degree temperature, combined with the breeze blowing off the lake, was too cold for her and that she wanted to eat her lunch in the car.

After leaving the park, we walked along the marina, to the gazebo at the end of the dock (where I once met William Shatner, which I mention every time I say I visited Watkins Glen. Long story. I’ve probably already written about it here, somewhere anyhow.) before heading to the apple orchard. Both places were pretty packed with people, the orchard especially. We were able to pick from a couple of rows of apples only as the other rows weren’t ready. We, as a group of short people, had fun trying to pick the larger apples, which were all up high.

Besides being with my family all day, the highlight of the day was hearing from my youngest niece, who we haven’t heard from in about a year. Receiving a call from her out of the blue meant more than I can say but hearing her say she loved and missed me pretty much broke me into a blubbering mess. I cried. It was an awesome birthday gift because I’d been wanting to reach out to her and her sisters but the family situation there is sometimes hard to read so I’m never sure I should. Reading teenagers is hard enough but figuring it out when it comes to our odd little family who fails to communicate well makes it even harder.

Having my daughter hold my hand and tell her dad and brother, “I’m just going to stay back here with the birthday girl” was another weepy moment for me.

The next birthday is Little Miss’s in two weeks and she’s already making plans, or already telling me to do, in other words. She talks about it every day. I hate to think this way, but in the past we’ve tried to invite all the people she wanted and half the time they didn’t show so I dread inviting people and having her disappointed. I have a feeling that as long as family is there, she will be happy.

What I’m reading

I bought myself a paperback book last week for my birthday and when I flipped the pages and sniffed it, the smell of ink and paper immediately transported me to my bedroom at about the age of 11, long after I was supposed to be asleep, holding a flashlight, reading Little House on the Prairie. I mean immediately. I sniffed it and said “Little House on the Prairie.”

The memory was that clear.

The book I bought, Hadley Beckett’s Next Dish by Bethany Turner, has been a wonderful distraction from life lately, pulling me completely out of my own world and into Chef Hadley Beckett and Chef Max Cavanaught’s world.

Bethany has such an entertaining style to her storytelling. Her stories are full of humor, cultural references, and fun imagery and yet still remain clean.

One of my favorite descriptions of hers in this book so far is how Hadley describes how Max’s shirt fits him: “The T-shirt sleeves strained just slightly to their resting point mid-way down his bicep, and with his arms crossed over his chest, as they were now, you could almost hear an audible sigh from the front of the shirt, as it was allowed a moment to relax from the tightness that Max’s well-toned chest and shoulders usually created.”

I finished Bethany’s book The Secret Life of Sarah Hollenback last week and also enjoyed that, even though it felt to me like she tried to shove too much into the final chapters. It was her first book, though, so that’s understandable. I know I haven’t got a clue about writing a book and try to shove too much into them when I do. Or I don’t explain enough in them. It’s a learning process.

I’m also reading The Cat Who liked Cheese by Lillian Jackson Braun but I’m not sure I’ll make it because it is terribly boring so far and I’m half way through.

What I’m Watching

I’ve been watching a lot of British comedies this week: Two’s Company (an old one from the 70s or 80s) about an American woman living in London who hires a British butler; Black Books about an Irish bookstore owner who is totally nuts and his two friend (who are also a bit nuts); and You, Me, & Them about a younger woman (33) in a relationship with an older man (59) and their crazy families.

You, Me, & Them deals with a lot of adult subjects but is still cleaner than some shows. However, I find it really odd that the parents of the teenage girl assume she’s having sex and drinking and just accept it and let the girl run all over them. I know it’s supposed to be a comedy and a little illogical, so I try to let it go, though. I wouldn’t let it go in my real life though.

What I’m Writing

I shared the second to last chapter of Quarantined on Thursday and another chapter of The Farmer’s Daughter on Friday.

What I’m Listening To

I have been listening and watching to a devotional with Chip Ingram on Living on the Edge Minstries, but I have also been listening to some of Living on the Edge’s podcasts on my phone.

At night I have been listening to At Home At Mitford from Focus on the Family’s radio theater, even though I’ve listened to it a few times before already.

Photos of the Week

Fiction Friday: The Farmer’s Daughter Chapter 25

On By Lisa R. HowelerIn fiction, Fiction Friday6 Comments

This week I’ve been busy trying to extract Jason’s storyline from the novel because if I don’t I’m going to have an opus on my hands and I’m not interested in writing one of those. I figure I’ll plop a novella about Jason in between The Farmer’s Daughter and The Librarian, which is already partially written. I’ll share the remainder of his story here on the blog on Fiction Friday, though.

The following chapter will definitely be rewritten. I hesitated even sharing it this week because I didn’t get to rewrite or rework it as often as I usually do before I post it to the blog. Luckily (I mean that sincerely) I don’t have a huge following so not too many people will be disappionted. Haha!

For those who do read each week, stay tuned for updates or you can download the book when it is done. I’m still trying to figure out a way to offer it for free for my blog readers. I know there is a way. I just need to research it more. The final book will be much shorter than what I post here after editing and removing Jason’s story, of course.

Anyhow, to catch up on the rest of the story click HERE.

Chapter 25

 I miss you, he texted.

Her: You just saw me in the barn a couple hours ago.

Him: Two days without kissing you is too long.

Her: It is. Drive me to my grandma’s in the morning? Dad’s working on my truck.

Him: Can I kiss you before I drop you off?

Her: Maybe.

Him: I’ll meet you after milking.

Her: I can’t wait.

***

The leather of the Bible cover was smooth under Franny’s hand as she brushed the dust from it.

She could see better now since her surgery. She really had no excuse not to read it.

Except that whole being mad at God thing.

She sighed and slid her fingers down the spine of it and then across the front again, across her name embossed in gold on the front. The Bible had been a birthday gift from Ned 20 years ago.

“New King James,” he’d announced proudly as she unwrapped it. “Just like you asked. Not too modern. Not too old fashioned. The perfect translation.”

The perfect translation yet it still couldn’t help her translate her pain into joy or her ashes into beauty.

She held the Bible against her as she walked toward the back porch. She usually sat on the front porch, but she needed a change of scenery today and she only had a little time before her friend Betty, Annie’s mother and Molly and Jason’s other grandmother, came to help her finish a quilt they’d been working on.

The sun poured yellow and white across the paint-chipped floor, stretching shadows of trees toward her brown slippers as she walked.

“Should have brought a quilt out here with me. It’s getting chilly.”

Sitting in the chair closest to the railing she lowered herself slowly onto the soft pillow she’d sown several years ago at the sewing club and looked out toward the dirt road and the field.

Someone had parked a truck in that patch of field behind the maple tree where Ned used to hang the tire swing for the kids and just beyond the chicken coop. The area where Robert had made a makeshift entrance for the field when he drove in there to plant the corn.

“Now who would have done that? It gets muddy out there. Don’t they know that? They’ll get their truck stuck.” She lifted herself slightly and squinted toward the truck. “Is that that Stone boy who works for Robert? What’s he doing parking in the field like that? I hope he’s not out there with one of those little blond floozies again.”

She shook her head, her Bible on her lap, knowing she should open it, but her eye was drawn to movement at the truck as the passenger side door opened. Was that her granddaughter climbing out of that truck?

Franny’s eyes narrowed further down and her mouth pressed into a thin line as she watched Alex slide out of the truck, walk around the front of it, and approach Molly.

“Now, what do you think you’re doing there, young ma—ooooh my.”

The sight of Alex pulling her granddaughter close and cupping her young face in his hands before he kissed her expanded Franny’s eyes from narrowed slits to round circles.

She shook her head. “Well, now I’m not sure if I’m glad I got that surgery on my eyes or not.”

She stood when she saw Molly turn toward the house, deciding she wouldn’t let her granddaughter catch her watching her romantic visit with the farm hand.

She was sitting on the couch in the living room with the Bible on her lap trying to act innocent when Molly slipped through the back door, the screen door bouncing closed behind her.

“Hey, Grandma.”

“Hey, girl. Didn’t know I was going to see you today. What brings you over?”

Molly stayed in the kitchen, reaching for a glass in the cabinet next to the stove. “I just wanted to come and say ‘hello’. I haven’t stopped by for a while.”

“Mmmmm. I see. Well, if you stay a bit you’ll get to see both of your grandmothers. Betty is on her way over to help me finish a quilt.”

“Great! Hey, I’m going to grab myself a glass of water. You want one?”

Franny leaned back against the couch and made herself comfortable. “Yes, actually, that would be nice. It is a bit warm today.” She coughed softly. “I guess you’ve worked up a sweat before you got here.”

Molly sat a glass of ice water on the table next the couch for her grandmother and held hers as she sat next on the couch. Franny studied her second oldest granddaughter’s flushed cheeks and knew it wasn’t only the warm day bringing that light pink to her skin.

“I didn’t see your truck. Did you walk here today?”

She raised an eyebrow, waiting for Molly to answer. I’ve got you now, Molly-girl.

Molly’s uneasy expression and the quick way she adverted her eyes to study something obviously more interesting on the cushion of the couch amused Franny.

“Oh. Um. No.” Molly waved toward the window behind her. “Alex dropped me off on his way into town. He’s going to swing by later and pick me up.

Franny propped her elbow on the arm of the couch and leaned her face against her hand.

“Mmhmm…. I see.” She turned slightly toward her granddaughter, stretching an arm across the back of the couch. “So, tell me, Molly, do you love Alex Stone or was that kiss I just saw him giving you part of a summer romance?”

Molly choked on the water she was drinking, droplets sputtering from her lips. She set the glass down and wiped her mouth before looking at her grandmother with wide eyes. “I’m sorry?”

“Are you now? Well, should you be? Sorry, that is?”

Molly watched her grandmother with wide eyes and a partially opened mouth, unsure of how to respond.

“I was on the back porch and saw you two having a nice moment, you might say. Outside his truck. Just now.”

“Oh.”

“I hope these little rendezvous of yours have only involved kissing. Or was this the first rendezvous?”

Molly looked at the ceiling and sighed. Lord, have mercy. You sent my grandmother to keep an eye on me?

“No. I mean, yes, it was only kissing, but no it wasn’t the first time.” Quieter, under her breath she added: “And I guess that eye surgery did wonders for you. Sadly.”

Franny smirked. “It was my eyes that were the issue, sweetie, not my ears. I heard that.”

Molly was glad to see some of her grandmother’s spunk had returned, though she wished it had been used on another family member instead of her.

“Does your daddy know about this?”

“No. Not yet.”

Franny sipped her water, glancing out the front window. “It should be interesting when he finds out.”

Molly swallowed water in large gulps. “Mmm, yeah. It should be.”

Franny smiled, sipping her water again. “He’s a good looking young man. That Alex.”

“Yes.”

“Polite.”

“Yes.”

“Bit of a drinker, though.”

“He’s not drinking like he used to, Grandma.”

“Used to watch him drive up this road with some pretty young ladies in his truck.”

“Yes.”

“You better not be another notch on his bed post, or I’ll have his hide.”

Molly gasped. What else had the doctors done to her grandmother at that hospital? Apparently, they had turned the dial on her sass factor all the way to ten. “Grandma!”

“I’m serious, Molly.”

“Grandma, I wouldn’t  . . . I mean, I don’t think he’s . . . he’s different now, Grandma. He’s . . . changing.”

“Some men will say whatever you want to hear. They’ll say they’ve changed when they haven’t. But I hope he really has so he’s worthy of my granddaughter.”

Molly sat her glass of water on the coffee table, pulled her legs up under her and turned so she was facing her grandmother. She casually propped her arm along the back of the couch to match her grandmother’s pose.

“You’re really enjoying yourself teasing me, aren’t you, Grandma?”

“I am but I’m also serious. I want you to be careful, Molly.”

“I am.”

Franny raised an eyebrow over her glass as she drank from it.

“Really, Grandma. I am.”

Franny sighed and lowered the eyebrow as she sat her glass back down. “Well, he’s a hard worker. That’s one good thing he’s got going for him. That and those pretty blue eyes. I’m sure you’ve noticed them.”

Molly smiled, red spreading along her cheeks again. “Yes. I have noticed those.”

“Your grandpa was a hard-worker too, you know that.”

“I do.”

Molly leaned back, hopeful the interrogation was over. She decided she needed to try to change the subject. “Grandma, how did you and grandpa meet?”

Franny knew her granddaughter was changing the subject but decided to let it go. She motioned toward the bookcase across on the other side of the room, from the couch. “On that bottom shelf over there is a photo album. Go get it for me, will you?”

Molly heard the front door open as she lifted the album from the shelf and sat back on the couch.

Hannah carried a basket into the house, walking toward the kitchen. “Ladies. What are we up to today?”

 “Your niece is just over here changing the subject.”

Molly shot her grandmother a warning scowl with a hint of a smile. Franny winked.

“What’s that?” Hannah asked from the kitchen.

“We’re just looking at photos of grandma and grandpa,” Molly said quickly.

The last thing she needed was Hannah chiming in on her relationship with Alex.

Staring back at Molly from her grandmother’s photo album was a couple Molly knew were her grandparents, despite how young they were. She could see them in their eyes, in their broad smiles, standing outside the farmhouse she was now sitting in, his arms around her. The photo was black and white. Franny was wearing a flowered dress, her hair pulled back in a 40s hairstyle. Her grandfather was handsome, square jawline, bright eyes, dark hair swept off his forehead, wearing a uniform.

“That was the day before he left for Vietnam.” Franny tapped the photo with the tip of her finger. “He’d proposed to me a month earlier.”

“What color was the dress?”

“Blue with red flowers. Your great grandmother made it for me as a graduation gift.”

Cupboard doors opened and closed in the kitchen. “I picked up some of that soup you like, Mom,” Hannah called from the kitchen. “And a couple boxes of crackers.”

Franny tapped her finger against another photo. “Here we are on our wedding day, after he came home. He was over there about a year before he was shot in the leg. Doctors didn’t think he’d walk again so he was discharged.”

Another page was turned. “Oh, and here a year and a half after our wedding, with your uncle Walt. He was such a fat baby.”

Molly and Franny laughed.

Hannah walked from the kitchen, drying her hands on a dish towel. “I put some lasagna in a container in the fridge for dinner tonight and some pork chops for lunch tomorrow.”

“Thank you much,” Franny said still looking at the album.

Hannah sat on the arm of the couch, craning her neck to look at the album on her mother’s lap. “Is that me with Robert?”

Franny smiled. “Oh, yes. You loved to have him give you piggyback rides around the yard.”

Molly looked at a photo of her grandfather standing outside the barn, a little girl about five, with reddish-brown curls cascading down her back. “Is that me?”

Hannah sat on the couch next to Molly. “Oh, you were so funny. You’d follow Dad around with that little metal bucket we used to use for the chicken feed. ‘I milk da cows now’d, Grandpa,’ you’d say, you rlittle pants falling off your diaper clad bottom.”

The three women laughed at the memory.

“And who knew that a few years later Sarah and Max would be doing the same,” Molly said, talking about her much younger cousins, now 14 and 16.

Franny traced her fingertip along a photo of Ned, mentally transported to a day 10 years earlier when he’d talked about retiring, letting the boys take over more of the operation of the farm.

“We’re going to have more time for ourselves, Franny,” he’d told her. “More time for long walks around the farm, watching fireflies in the field, maybe we can even take a trip or two.”

They had had a few years of those nights to watch fireflies and they’d even taken a couple of trips to a couple of lighthouses a few hours away before Ned became sicker, but Franny had expected many more years and in so many ways she felt robbed.

She bit her lower lip as Hannah and Molly laughed about other photographs on the page; Robert in bellbottoms, Annie’s hair when she was pregnant with Molly, Hannah’s high heeled shoes she almost fell out of on her prom night.

Molly glanced at her grandmother and noticed the tears glimmering, hovering on the edge, ready to spill over. Her laughter faded and she reached over to cover Franny’s hand with her own.

“You okay?”

Franny nodded, but closed her eyes, a tear escaping down her cheek. When she opened her mouth to speak, she found she couldn’t. An ache squeezed at her chest as more tears pooled in her eyes.

“I miss him, girls,” she whispered a few moments later. “I miss him.”

Hannah moved to kneel in front of her mother, sliding the photo album from her lap and laying it on the coffee table.

“We do too, Mom. We do too.”

Sobs shook Franny’s small body as she bowed her head. “I’ve — I’ve been mad at God.” She opened her eyes and looked at the ceiling, so she didn’t have to look at Molly and Hannah, see their looks of surprise, maybe even shock or disappointment. “It’s wrong, but I’ve been mad at him for taking Ned away from me.”

Hannah clutched Franny’s hands in hers.

“Mom. Look at me.”

Franny shook her head and closed her eyes again.

“Mom.”

She looked at Hannah, her eyes red from crying.

“Remember what you told me after my miscarriage? You told me that it’s okay to be mad at God. You told me, ‘He’s big enough to handle it.’ Remember?”

Franny continued to cry, nodding.

She mouthed “thank you,” her voice stolen by emotion.

Molly swallowed hard as Hannah, still kneeling, laid her head in her mother’s lap and began to cry. Franny touched the top of Hannah’s head, sank her hands into her daughter’s dark hair and bent over her in a protective move, continuing to cry softly.

 Molly felt like she was interrupting a tender, private moment somehow until Franny looked over, slid her arm around Molly and pulled her close.

The front screen door squeaked open a few moments later and footsteps followed.

“Hello? Franny? You here?”

There was pause in the footsteps and then a soft gasp. “Oh…my. What have I walked into?”

Molly sniffed and looked up at her other grandmother Betty, smiling slightly through the tears. “A good cry.”

She held her hand out to Betty whose eyes softened with compassionate realization, not needing to be told what the tears were for.

She took Molly’s hand.

“Well, then, let me get in on that good cry, ladies.”

Molly held Betty’s right hand and leaned against Franny and Hannah reached up and clutched Betty’s left hand. The four women cried together, letting go of the emotions they’d been holding in for far too long.