Tears spill down my daughter’s cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” she chokes, and I put down my rolling pin to envelop her in a floury hug.
“You don’t need to be sorry,” I murmur against her hair. “I promise.”
“Still—”
“This wasn’t meant to be a guilt trip. Let’s just go on from here, agreeing to talk to each other, okay? That is, if you want to. If you want our advice. Hearing it doesn’t mean you have to take it, you know.”
“I do want it,” Bethany mumbles, wiping her eyes. “I guess… I guess part of me wanted to show you that I had life figured out, you know? That I wasn’t just a loser who dropped out of high school and failed to get into college.”
“Oh, Bethany.” I shake my head sorrowfully. “We haveneverthought of you like that.”
“I guess I thought of myself like that,” she admits. “And by proving it to you, I was proving it to myself.” She shakes her head. “I didn’t even think of it like that until now, but I’m pretty sure that’s what’s been going on.”
“I didn’t think of it like that, either,” I confess. “I suppose I just felt hurt you didn’t want to talk to us about anything.” Sheflinches, and I smile. “I’m not saying that to make you feel badly. I just think it’s time we werebothhonest.”
“I know.” She smiles through the last of her tears. “I promise I won’t keep things secret from you anymore. I can’t wait for us to plan my wedding together!”
I smile at that. “You’re thinking May, Emmy said?” I kept my tone light, but Bethany winces all the same.
“Sheasked. I was going to talk to you about that first, I swear.”
“It’s okay, Beth.” I feel a lot lighter after our conversation. There was no need for me to hold on to any hurt, and I’m glad for my girl. “May seems like a good time. And I think having a longer engagement is wise. You guys have only known each other for a year, after all.”
“I know.” She takes another raspberry, and I playfully slap her hand away. “I know it might seem like we did, but we didn’t rush into this. Ben and I have talked through a lot. I still plan to do my midwifery course at Shenandoah, which means moving up there in September. So, we’ll be long-distance for a while, but three and a half hours isn’t that far, right? And after we get married, Ben’s willing to move to Winchester so I can complete my degree. Then we’re thinking we’ll move back closer to home. He wants to start his own sustainable forestry business, and I’ll be a midwife.” She beams at me. “It’ll be great!”
“It sounds great,” I tell her, although as a mother, I am wondering how Ben will pay for gas to and from Winchester to visit and where Bethany intends to live. She might have gotten financial aid, but it doesn’t cover accommodation. But those are problems for another day. Right now, all I need to be is happy for my daughter.
“All right, I need to finish this pie,” I tell her. “Can you pick some lettuce from the garden? Mike and Diana are going to be here in an hour.”
An hour later, the raspberry pie is cooling on a rack, the fluted crust perfectly golden. The roast chicken is in the oven, the salad is tossed, and the fresh bread is ready to be sliced. I’ve gotten out two bottles of elderberry cordial as well as a bottle of wine, and Bethany set the table beautifully with napkins shaped like swans and a large bouquet of wildflowers in the center.
I breathe out, trying to ignore the twinges that are shooting through my belly. It’s just from all the exertion, I tell myself. My due date is still three weeks away. Rose wanders into the kitchen, reaching for a piece of crust to break off and pop into her mouth, and I slap her hand away.
“Ouch!” she cries, surprised, and I give her a mock glare.
“Did you really think I was going to let you do that? That pie looks perfect.” I have finally mastered the fluted crust. It’s taken years.
Rose grins and rolls her eyes. Deciding she needs to be put to work, I tell her to check that the chickens have water. She groans, fairly good-naturedly, and heads outside just as the doorbell rings.
“Well, hello there!” I hear Josh call jovially. “You must be Diana.”
Checking one last time on the chicken, I turn off the stove, then go to greet our guests.
Mike has arrived as I come into the living room, bearing his usual bounty—a bouquet of wildflowers tied with twine, a dish of black walnut butter, and a small tin of red raspberry leaf he made himself. The man really is resourceful.
“I’ve heard the tea is good for pregnant ladies,” he tells me. “Not that I know!” He laughs a little too heartily and looks almost anxiously at Diana, whose blue hair has faded to a very pale gray with just a tinge of periwinkle. She’s wearing a loose cotton sundress and Birkenstocks. Mike is in a plaid shirt andkhakis, and they are both clearly sizing each other up, which makes me smile.
“Thank you, Mike, that’s so kind,” I tell him as I take the gifts. “I don’t believe you’ve met our new neighbor, Diana? She’s moved into the cabin at the bottom of the valley, right by the creek.”
“Oh!” Mike wipes his hand on his pants, then sticks it out for Diana to shake. “Very pleased to meet you. Nice to have another neighbor!”
“And I’m pleased to meet you,” Diana replies, taking his hand. She’s blushing, and I can’t help but smirk a little at Josh. So far, my matchmaking plans are off to a pretty good start.
I wish I could say they continue to develop, but after that promising start, things descend fairly quickly into tension and even animosity. The wine doesn’t help—Diana has two glasses during dinner, and after an hour of affable chitchat, her friendly, mild way of speaking turns a little aggressive.
When Mike starts going on about the upcoming apocalypse, she rolls her eyes and lets out a loud laugh.
“You’re not actuallyserious?” she demands, her elbows on the table while Mike looks both startled and affronted. He likes to pontificate, but I’m not sure he enjoys being challenged.
