Chapter 3 #3
I took your suggestion and started drawing things other than birds, which is good because I haven’t seen many birds since winter started.
It’s been great fun trying to draw snow on trees and blowing drifts, but I’m not very good.
In the spring there will be more birds to draw, along with other animals like squirrels and rabbits and chipmunks, although Aunt Bertha mentioned that she usually puts poison around the edges of the garden to keep the chipmunks and other critters at bay.
I always thought it was nice to leave the edges of the garden for the deer and other animals, but she disagrees.
It’s her garden, so she can do what she wants.
One day I hope to have a huge garden of my own.
I want to plant everything, not just tomatoes, peppers, and onions.
I’d like to have an herb garden too. And flowers—definitely flowers.
There will be birdfeeders and hummingbird feeders everywhere.
And a small pond nearby, where I can skip rocks and take off my shoes and dip my feet in the cool water.
You don’t think skipping rocks is too childish, do you?
Jalon shook his head, smiling. He didn’t think that was childish at all.
He hadn’t skipped rocks in years, but he used to love doing it as a kid.
He finished reading the letter, imagining how great a huge garden would be in addition to his farm crops.
He liked that she had an appreciation of the land and nature.
He was also glad his instincts had been right about the birdhouse.
He dashed off a quick letter of response of his own and mailed it the next morning.
After work the following day, Jalon was in the kitchen washing dishes.
He had two days’ worth, and Leanna would have had a fit if she were there.
She was a terrible cook but a cleaning fiend, almost to the point of driving him crazy.
As he finished scrubbing the last pot, he went to let out Blue, who was meowing at the door.
As the cat dashed outside, he heard the distant ring of the phone from the shanty at the end of the driveway.
For an absurd moment he thought maybe Phoebe was calling him—but she wouldn’t.
He hadn’t given her his phone number, although maybe that would have been a better step than suggesting they meet face-to-face.
But from the way she described living with her aunt Bertha, he wondered if she even had access to a phone.
Jalon jogged out of the house to the shanty, opened the door, and picked up the receiver as the phone rang for a fourth time. “Hello?”
“You sound out of breath.”
Leanna. “Of course I’m out of breath. I ran from the haus . Is something wrong?”
“You always assume something is wrong.”
“Because it usually is when the phone rings.” His family rarely used it when he was growing up, mostly if they needed to call a vet or a doctor.
In other words, an emergency, and from Leanna’s casual tone this definitely wasn’t one.
Something else made his chest tense. She was visiting family, and family included Adam.
When he heard her voice. he immediately thought something had happened to him.
“How else am I supposed to let you know I’m staying in Mespo for a couple more weeks?” she said.
Letting out a relieved breath, he replied, “Why are you telling me at all? I thought you said yer visit was open-ended.”
“I made it more open-ended than before.”
He scratched his head, then shrugged. Sometimes it wasn’t worth trying to figure out his sister. “Have you talked to Daed lately?”
“I had supper with him and Mamm the other day. The tension in Onkel Marvin’s haus is thick as peanut butter, by the way.”
“So he didn’t say anything about the haus ?”
“What haus ? Our haus ?”
The windows in the shanty started to fog up. He blew on his hand, wishing he’d thrown on a coat. He explained to Leanna about buying the house and farm, leaving out the part about their father being in arrears.
“Seriously?” she said. “You’re going to be a farmer?”
“I’m going to try.”
“I’m sure you’ll succeed.” She paused. “You know, with yer help I’m sure Daed could have made a success of the farm.”
“Is that what he said?”
“Of course not. Daed wouldn’t admit that. Just like you couldn’t forgive him for being such a jerk to you.”
“I forgave him.” Jalon wiped the window with the heel of his hand.
“Sure you did.” Before he could respond to that little dig, she added, “Anyway, I’m glad you bought the haus . It’s gut to keep it in the familye . It must have taken you a long time to make yer decision.”
“Not as long as you think.”
She chuckled. “Could that be because of Phoebe?”
“I’m hanging up now.”
“Beat you to it.” Click.
He opened the shanty door and stepped out into the cold evening air.
The sun had set an hour ago, but streaks of pale gray and lavender crossed the winter sky.
His gaze drifted upward. What was Phoebe doing right now?
Was she relaxing with a book? Or maybe she was drawing the night sky.
He hoped whatever she was doing, she was thinking about him.
Lord knew he couldn’t get his mind off her.
He heard the snorting of the pigs in the barn.
It was suppertime for them too. He went into the barn and the pigs came running from the outside pen to their stall.
Two old draft horses whinnied, and his buggy horse lifted his head above his stall.
They were all hungry. Blue must have dashed out of the house when he left for the shanty, because he was rubbing his side against Jalon’s ankles.
After he fed the horses, he watched the pigs finish their meal.
They were still piglets, and greedy. Soon the barn was filled with the munching of animals eating their grain, along with the occasional whinny and whine punctuating the air.
That wasn’t the only thing filling the air.
He sniffed. The barn needed a good cleaning.
Tomorrow was Sunday, and he had to work on Monday, so he might as well clean it tonight.
A couple of hours later, after a quick snack and a hot shower, he fell into bed.
Having a clean barn wasn’t the only benefit of his labor—he’d thought about plans for the farm.
And Phoebe, of course. His body was exhausted from a full day’s work and cleaning the barn, but his mind continued to whirr.
He tossed and turned, punched his pillow twice, then booted Blue out of his bed.
The cat never slept with him, but for some reason since Leanna left, Blue had staked out Jalon’s bed as his own.
He turned on the battery-powered lamp on his bedside table, sat up, and ran both hands through his hair. Two words repeated in his mind. Tell her. Tell her . “Tell her what, God? About mei past?” No, that wasn’t something he could share in a letter.
Deep down he knew what the nudge meant. He took out a sheet of paper from his nightstand. Stationery wasn’t something he’d kept nearby before writing Phoebe. Now he made sure to have plenty of paper, stamps, and envelopes handy.
He stared at the paper, then took a deep breath. This was the most important letter he would ever write. It might scare her off. It might ruin their relationship. But he had to let her know the truth about his feelings, the dreams and plans he had for both of them.
His palms grew damp. He’d never risked his heart before, always keeping himself and his emotions at a safe distance. It was easier that way, less painful. Yet knowing what he felt for Phoebe and having to keep it locked up tight was worse than being detached.
When it came to Phoebe, he didn’t want to play it safe.
Dear Phoebe,
I know I wrote you a letter yesterday, but it’s the middle of the night and I can’t sleep. I can’t sleep because you’re on my mind and in my heart. I know I said it would be all right to wait to meet, but it’s not. I want to see you, and knowing I can’t is driving me crazy.
I care about you. No, that’s not the complete truth.
It might sound irrational because we’ve only known each other a short time, and we’ve never met in person, but I love you.
I love you, Phoebe. I want to speak those words, not write them down on paper.
I want you to hear them. I want you to see my face and know they’re the truth.
And when I say those words, I want to see your face.
Your beautiful face that haunts my dreams.
Please say yes, Phoebe.
Love,
Jalon
He went downstairs, put the letter in an envelope, and addressed and stamped it.
Then he took it to the mailbox and put it inside, even though he knew it wouldn’t be picked up until Monday.
As he lifted the red flag on the box, his teeth chattered.
He was out here in the cold night air, barefoot and wearing the pants and shirt he threw on before leaving his bedroom, mailing the one and only love letter he’d ever written.
He was probably making the most foolish mistake of his life . .. or the best decision.
He went back inside, undressed, and lay down on his bed, ready to sleep like a baby.