Authors: Sharon Flesch
“Mom, you look so
happy,” Amy observed.
“It shows, huh?”
Addy was a little embarrassed. “I always loved . . . ” she began.
“You always loved
us kids and you were a wonderful wife to Dad, but,” she gave her mom an
understanding smile, “you really belong here.” Maggie had told her
Adrianna was different somehow and now she knew why. “Mom, you seem so at
peace here. I’m so thankful to God for giving you a chance at a new
life.” She studied the people in the room around them. There were no
pretenders, no one trying to impress someone else. “Dad was always
‘
country
club
’
and you were always
‘
country
’,
” she laughed and
smiled at Mark, who was watching them from across the room. “Grandpa Will was
right, you ARE Addy now, not Adrianna, and I love you. So will
Chad.”
‘And so does the man standing next to Mark,’
she realized
and turned to give her Aunt Maggie a questioning look.
Maggie knew
what she was thinking and nodded. Jack’s love was written all over his face
every time he looked at Addy. She wondered if Addy had recognized it yet,
and if she did, how she would handle it. She didn’t wonder for
long. Addy walked over to Scotty to rough up his ‘perfect hair’ and asked
if they were all ready for a piece of pie.
“Scotty made it!”
she pointed out with pride. The smile she gave Jack left no room for
doubt, the feeling was mutual. Maggie and Amy shared a quick wink.
Both had wondered how they would feel if Adrianna ever found a special
someone. Adrianna hadn’t, but Addy had, and it was just great.
***
The rain went on
and on and on. Although their Easter guests had made it back to town with no
problems, the road between the ranch and the top of the mountain was now
completely impassable. The youngest calves had scours and the problem was
spreading; late one evening Addy found Jack sitting at his desk, his head in
his hands.
“Can I do anything
to help?” she offered.
“Have a simple
cure for scours?” He looked as weary as he felt. “Just kidding.” He
pushed himself out of the chair and turned off the light on his desk.
“Any coffee left in the pot?”
“Yes, but I think
I’ll make you a cup of cocoa instead, if that’s all right,” she told him as she
tilted her head to get a better look at his face.
“I look that bad?”
He attempted a smile.
“Worse. How
long has it been since you’ve really slept?”
“Too long ago to
remember.” He sank into the armchair by the living room window.
“Just
how bad is it, Jack?” she asked quietly, as she sat down on the big, soft couch.
“We used the last
of the medicine today. If this rain keeps up, if the scours spread, we
may lose half of the young ones.” He had promised himself he wouldn’t
burden her with any of this. She had enough to do managing the
house. “How are the supplies for the house holding out?”
“We’re doing just
fine, really. I’ve been using some of the canned goods your mom had in the
cellar, the newest stuff. We won’t starve.” She smiled across the rim of
her cup as she watched him fall asleep. She slipped a pillow under his
head and covered him with an afghan. Sleeping in the chair was better
than no sleep at all.
***
It came to her in
the middle of the night. She threw on her housecoat and ran down the
stairs.
“Jack, wake up.” She shook him gently.
“What on earth?”
He sat bolt upright. “How long have I been here?”
“Never mind
that.” Addy prayed she hadn’t awakened him for nothing. “How much
pop do we have in the basement?” She had noticed the large stack in the
corner weeks ago while cleaning.
“What?” Jack was
still half asleep and this was making no sense to him.
“How much Coca
Cola? You know. Coke. Soda pop.”
“I know what it
is, Addy. I just don’t know why you need it at three o’clock in the
morning.”
“How much?” she
asked again. Jack really looked at her for the first time. She was
serious.
“Pops got a
wonderful buy on some a few years back. Bought a bunch of the rotten
stuff.”
“A lot?”
“Yeah, it’s still
here in the basement, I think. Addy, what’s this all about?”
“It just came to
me,” she was almost dancing with joy. “Chad was in 4-H. He had a
dairy calf.” She was talking a mile a minute.
“Slow down.
What has that got to do with coke?”
“Everything,” she
said like he should already understand. “Don’t you see? Coke will
cure the scours.”
“Oh, sure it
will.” She obviously had been dreaming.
“Don’t you give me
that condescending tone, Cowboy. I know what I’m talking about.”
Jack shook his
head and headed for the kitchen. “I’ll warm up the coffee, and then you
can tell me all about the ‘coke cure’.”
“I know you don’t
believe me, but it worked.” She grabbed two mugs out of the drainer.
“Okay, Doc Banks,
tell me all about it.” Jack sat down and sipped the lukewarm coffee.
“You mix one cup
of coke with three cups of warm water. Don’t let them have anything else
until the scours stop.”
“How often do you
give it to them?”
“Every other
hour,” She saw the look of hopelessness on Jack’s face. “but it usually only
takes two or three doses.”
“Desperate times
call for desperate measures. I’ll go down and see how much ‘medicinal
coke’ we have.” He flashed her a grin.
“I’ll get
dressed. You’re going to need help. How many calf bottles do you
have?”
“About ten or
twelve, I think.” Jack started down the stairs. “I’ll check in the
barn after I bring the pop up out of the basement.”
“What on earth is
going on out there?” Will asked pulling on his shirt as he met Andy in the
hall.
“You’ve got me,
but its three thirty in the morning.” Andy rubbed his eyes and tried to
wake up.
“Andy, since
you’re up, lend me a hand, will ya?” Jack climbed the basement stairs
with the cases of coke. “How much of this stuff did you buy, Pops, do you
remember?”
“Yeah, I bought
twenty-four cases at the charity auction at the grange. You remember the
one; it was for the young fellow who needed a kidney transplant.”
“We may be real
thankful you were feeling so generous.” Jack told him, as he handed him
the cases and headed back down the steps. “Pops, ask Addy to wake
Scotty. We’re going to need him.”
They had worked
through what remained of the night and well into the morning. Addy washed
and filled bottles. Scotty and the men fed calves, cleaned stalls and
then fed calves again. When they took a break for breakfast around ten
o’clock most of the first calves they had treated were responding. Jack
decided they had enough supplies to give each calf two more doses before
turning them out. The men would take turns watching the herd. If
any new cases popped up, they would treat them right away. When they
returned to the house for lunch, they found Addy and Scotty freshly showered,
in their pajamas, and curled up under a blanket on the couch . . . sound
asleep.
“Think we lost the
rest of our crew.” Will smiled and pulled the blanket tight around them.
“Guess you boys
are stuck with my cooking once more,” he whispered, as he tiptoed to the
kitchen.
“We’ll probably
survive it just this once,” Andy said, as he pulled leftovers out of the
fridge.
“And I make the
coffee!” Jack joked, ducking as his dad took a poke at him.
“Settle down you
guys or you’ll wake them up,” Andy growled. They sat at the table eating,
watching as Addy and Scotty slept.
“This place sure
has changed a lot in the past four or five months.” Andy sighed.
“Complaining?”
Will looked over at him in surprise.
“Not likely,” Andy
chuckled. “Don’t think any of us are. Pop for scours . . . good grief.”
***
The sound of the
rain on the roof and the tree branches pounding on the side of the house woke
Addy up before sunrise. She crawled out of bed and slipped downstairs for
a cup of tea. She stood watching the storm that surrounded them in the
predawn light. Three solid weeks of rain with no letup was a bit
much.
‘We really need a change of pace around here,’
she thought
as she meandered back to her room to dress for the day.
‘Something
bright!’
“What a great way
to start a rainy day.” Will poured a cup of the hot cocoa. “You’re
trying to make pansies of us with this stuff,” he said, as he sat down at the
table.
“I thought we
needed a change around here. We’re getting as gloomy as the weather.”
“Cabin fever
mostly, I think.” Andy added his two bits worth as he joined them.
“Where’s the ramrod of this outfit?”
“Sleeping in for a
change, I think.”
“Fat chance of
that with all those wonderful smells drifting up the stairs.” Jack
wandered into the kitchen about half awake. “Scotty said to save some for
him. He’s on his way.”
“He’d better get a
move on if he wants any of those.” Addy said, nodding in the general direction
of the tabletop where Will was grabbing another sticky bun. Jack sat down
in the window seat and watched as she scurried around the kitchen.
“You know what day
today is?” Jack finally asked just as Scotty came down the stairs. “We should
be waiting on her. It’s Mother’s Day.”
“It is?”
Addy looked surprised and yet happy someone remembered. “Guess I lost
track of the days.” She turned to see Scotty standing in the doorway
between the kitchen and living room. He looked at Jack and turned,
running for the stairway.
“I hate you!
You killed my mom,” Scotty spit out between sobs.
Jack turned
white. He had hoped this was behind them. Scotty had seemed so
happy. He seemed to be adjusting.
‘But he still hates me.’
He
looked up just in time to see Addy heading up the stairs towards Scotty’s room.
“Wait, Addy,” he
said quietly. “This is my job.” He stood at the bottom of the
stairs with his eyes closed and his head down . . . pondering.
“Jack?” She wished
she could ease his pain. He straightened his shoulders and started up the
stairs, one slow agonizing step at a time.
“Are they going to
be all right?” Will asked, as she came back into the kitchen.
“I’m not sure,”
she answered, as she steadied herself on the counter top. “ Pray Will.
That’s all we can do right now. The rest is up to Jack and Scotty.”
“We’ll do that.”
Will assured her. “Andy, let’s do the feeding. There’s not much we
can do here, and I need some air.”
Addy curled
up in a blanket on the window seat watching the falling rain and prayed.
Upstairs, Jack stood in the hallway outside Scotty’s door listening to him
cry. He was really tempted to walk away and hope this thing healed with
time, but he knew it wasn’t going to go away . . .not by itself. He
braced himself and knocked on the door.
“Scotty, may I
come in?”
“Go away.”
Jack stepped into
the room, closing the door behind him. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Son.”
“I’m not your
son!” Scotty yelled through his tears.
Jack sat in the
window seat and prayed for the right
words. “Listen to
me Scotty. I’ve done a lot of bad things in my life, a lot of things I’m
not particularly proud of, but I didn’t kill your mom and dad.” Jack
walked over to where Scotty was lying on his stomach and eased down on the bed.
“You may not believe me, but I’d have gladly traded places with them. I
still would, if I could.” The boy lying behind him was quieter now. “I
spent thirty years looking for my daughter, thirty years without her. If
you think for one minute I wanted to lose her . . . “Jack couldn’t stop his
tears from falling. He turned, and lying down next to Scotty, held
him. How long they lay there, letting their tears flow freely, neither
one knew. When they finally quit crying, they both had the hiccups.
“I sure miss my
mom.” Scotty whispered.
“Me too,
Son.” They got up and walked to the window seat.
“I really don’t
hate you, Grandpa. It’s just . . .”
“You hate losing
your mom and dad, and need to find someone to blame, right?”
“Yeah, how did you
know?” Scotty gave him the lopsided Kilbourne grin through his tears.
“I lost my mom a
few years back. I blamed Pops for a while.” Jack could see the question
in Scotty’s eyes. “Oh, I figured he shouldn’t have let her work so
hard, didn’t take good enough care of her, but the point is, it wasn’t
anybody’s fault. She just got old,” he explained.
“Guess you’re
never old enough to lose your mom, huh?” Scotty was beginning to understand.
“Would you mind
telling me about your mom, Scotty? I’ve had a thousand questions in my
head and no answers.” Jack rested his arms on his legs and prayed this was the
right time to ask.
“Really? Do
you want to know about her?”
“Sure. Why do you
find that so tough to believe?” Jack puzzled.
“You never mention
her. It’s like you didn’t even want to hear her name,” Scotty sounded
defensive.
“Scotty, I didn’t
talk about her or your dad, because I didn’t want to upset you!”
“If I tell you
something, do you promise not to think I’m nuts?”
“Try me.”
“When I had
surgery, well, I kind of talked to my mom.” Scotty wrinkled up his face as if
waiting for an explosion of some kind.
“I know, you gave
me her message, when you were in recovery.”
“I did?”
Scotty stammered.
“They were the
sweetest words I ever heard.
‘Mom said to tell you she loves you’.
I couldn’t believe my ears.”