Brenda felt a twinge of something—was it annoyance or hurt?—but she kept her voice even. “A son,” she repeated.
“Thought you’d be glad to hear it. It’s important, Brenda. You understand that, don’t you?” His gaze was earnest.
“Of course, I understand,” she replied, forcing a smile though her mind raced with thoughts unvoiced.
*****
BRENDA HEAVED THE WINDOWopen, hoping for relief from the heat. She could almost hear the laughter of her sisters on the wind—a sound she longed for.
“I have never been this hot in my life,” she muttered to herself, fanning her face with the hem of her apron.
The idea popped into her head like a firefly flickering to life in the dark expanse of her discontent. She would invite the girls over, her sisters. A gathering would be just the remedy to her unsettled spirits.
She fetched the writing paper and penned quick notes to each of them. “Afternoon tea and cookies at my home tomorrow,” it read. “Come for laughter and sisterhood.” She knew they’d come. They always stood by one another, no matter the distance or dust between them.
She went out and saddled the gelding Seth had told her was the calmest, and she rode to each of their homes, having gotten directions from them at church on Sunday. All of them, except Amy, agreed to come. Amy was going to town with her stepdaughters that afternoon to buy fabric for new dresses. She’d talk to Amy at another time.
As Brenda prepared the dough for the cookies, she couldn’t help but replay Seth’s words about needing a son. Annoyance bubbled inside. To be seen as nothing more than someone to bear his children—it pricked at her pride.
“Talking to me like I’m some broodmare,” she grumbled. But within the layers of her irritation, a small, silvery thread of comfort weaved through her thoughts. He was talking, after all—sharing plans, thoughts, a bit of himself. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
“Maybe this afternoon, with the girls around, I’ll find a way to see it clearer,” she mused. “Or at least laugh enough to forget for a spell.”
With the last cookie placed on the tray, Brenda peered out the window again, her heart aflutter with the promise of company and connection. She couldn’t wait for her sisters to arrive.
Brenda arranged a circle of chairs in the parlor. A pitcher of iced tea was on the table, next to a plate stacked with cookies.
“Look at you, all domestic,” teased Imogene, the youngest, her eyes twinkling as she hugged Brenda.
Once settled, Brenda took a deep breath. “I really need my sisters.” She fidgeted with her apron, gathering the courage to voice her heart’s troubles.
“Spill it, Brenda,” urged Cassandra.
“It’s Seth,” Brenda said. “He talks plans for the ranch, about needing a son to pass it all to, but he doesn’t see me. Not really.”
“Men can be blind,” said Deborah.
“Doesn’t mean they don’t care,” added Cassandra, reaching across to squeeze Brenda’s hand.
“Maybe so, but I feel more like part of the furniture than his wife. Where’s the laughter, the...connection? It’s all duty and no heart.”
“Have you told him this?” Erna asked, her brow furrowed with concern.
“Can’t find the words,” Brenda admitted.
“Start simple,” suggested Faith. “Tell him how you’re feeling, not just what you’re doing.”
“Compromise, too,” Cassandra said. “Find something you both enjoy, make it your thing.”
“And don’t forget the listening part,” Gail said. “It goes both ways.”
“True enough,” Brenda conceded, feeling the knot in her chest loosen just a bit. “And I suppose there’s no harm in trying to draw him out some.”
“Exactly!” her sisters exclaimed in unison, their laughter ringing through the room.
“All right then,” Brenda said, a spark igniting in her gaze. “I’ll give it a shot. After all, what’s marriage but a dance of give and take?”
Nods of agreement circled around as the conversation flowed into the late afternoon, the room filled with stories, advice, and the comforting presence of family. Brenda listened, laughed, and learned, feeling a great deal more hopeful as she was surrounded by her sisters.
