Seven

A Chapter by Norma M Sutton

Time passes quickly when children are around, but as the days turned to weeks and the weeks turned months my hope of fulfilling Julie's wishes dwindled. A pattern was established early on and try as I might I couldn't seem to break out of it. It wasn't until the garden started producing that I saw anything to give me hope. The day William found his first ripe tomato he pulled his dad out to see it. I've never been so embarrassed.

I didn't hear Dave drive up, but William did and before I realized it, there he was being tugged along down the path, a excited William dragging him with both hands. Being caught on my knees covered in dirt and sweat was the last way I wanted Dave to see me, but that's how he found me. Even worse I had on a pair of jeans that had been patched so many times that there was very little of the original jean still showing, and the shirt I was wearing, plastered to me in the heat, was worn so thin that the tank top I had on under it was showing through in places. My shoes had filled with dirt so I had kicked them off and my toes were the color of the dirt I was digging in. I'm certain I had black smudges across my face from brushing the loose pieces of my pony tail out of my face. When I raised my head to see him coming towards me he had the oddest grin on his face and I know I must have turned 3 shades of red. Looking down, I became acutely aware of my dirty feet, tousled hair and grubby hands. I curled my fingers in to hide the dirt under my nails.

***
The voice of my Grandmother echoed in my mind. "You may not be beautiful, but you can always be neat". I cringed. I was far from neat. Thinking of my petite grandmother I chuckled. I was never very neat compared to her. I can still see her in my mind's eye. Just barely five feet tall, black hair tucked into a bun at the nape of her neck. She was a amazing woman and to me she was beautiful. Those small dainty hands were work worn and she could milk a cow, two teats in each hand. I've never been able to do that, but then I've never really had to. A small soil stained hand patted my cheek and pulled me from my remembrance.
***

Williams shrill voice rose and fell as he pulled Dave to where the plant was, the small red tomato still hanging precariously from the tip of one branch. They were soon joined by Jason and Mark. I wistfully watched the interaction, then dusted myself off as I stood and turned to gather up the children's abandoned gardening tools, carrying them to their storage bins. Picking up my abandoned shoes, I grimaced as I pushed my a foot into one before pulling it back off and shaking the debris out. Feeling very alone I made my way back to the house to make sure the boys things were ready to go.

The thudding of running feet cut short my feelings of loneliness and I turned to watch the three of them rushing towards me and then past me and on to the truck. Dave brought up the rear, looking somber and thoughtful. He looked my way once, then twice, but continued on to the truck without saying a word.

As Dave reached the truck, the door opened and William nearly fell out. He shook his dad's steadying hands off and then took off back to the garden. Shaking his head he gave me a wry smile. " He forgot his tomato."

The wait for William's return was laden with unsaid words. Eventually he came back up the path, the fruit carefully clasped in both hands. Dave buckled him in, then settled into the drivers seat and closed the door. I watched as the truck pulled away. The silence following the crunch of gravel under the receding tires was unbearable.

I dreaded the weekend. The house was too quiet without the boys there.

Psalm 37:23-24 The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord: and He delighteth in his way. Though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast

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