Chapter 23
Mary wondered what Dot had gotten them into.
“What are we supposed to wear to dinner on a farm?” she yelled down the hall from her room.
“I don’t know. I’ve never been to dinner on a farm!” Dot was looking in her closet, too.
“Do you think I should wear something plaid?” Harper joined in. “I think farmers wear a lot of plaid.”
“I think as long as our clothes are clean, we’ll be fine,” Dot called out. “Now let’s go. I don’t want to be late.”
Earlier that week, on a cold, windy day, Dot had bumped into Grace Taylor on Main Street outside of Flour Power. It was now March, and she hadn’t seen her since their first encounter at the Reader Falls Bookshop.
“Hi, Dot! Glad I ran into you. I’ve been meaning to invite you and your girlfriends to one of our Sunday suppers. My mother used to host but I’ve taken over and everyone comes. Family attendance is mandatory, and we love having guests.”
“That sounds like a great tradition and a lovely invitation. We’d love to come some time.”
“Would this weekend work for you?”
“Let me see.” Dot pulled out her phone and pretended to check her calendar. “As expected, no plans! We don’t have the most active social lives here like we did in the city.”
“I bet you find it slow as molasses around here.”
“Oh no, we love it!” Dot worried she’d offended her and rushed to make up for it. “Cedar Falls sets the perfect pace.”
“If you like small towns and a strong community, it’s just about perfect.”
“I agree. And I haven’t even been to one of the farms yet. What can we bring?”
“Just your appetites.”
THE GIRLS MET downstairs and assessed each other’s outfits.
Harper had nixed the idea of plaid and had on wide-leg khakis, a white button-down under a Kelly green cotton cardigan, and her well-worn ankle boots to give her some height. She’d put on a little “Sunday supper” makeup and her hair was held back by a scrunchie.
Dot wore skinny jeans tucked into tan knee-high boots with a flat sole, and a lavender cashmere turtleneck. She arranged her hair in a sleek ponytail and put a hint of pink gloss on her lips.
Not surprisingly, Mary was the most dressed up. She had on black knit leggings, over-the-knee kitten heel boots, a hot pink silk blouse with pearl buttons, a gray suede blazer, and her large gold hoop earrings. Red lips, lined eyes, and defined brows completed her look.
“What?” she asked, noting Dot and Harper looking at her with their heads in a dog tilt.
“You are definitely dressed for agriculture,” Dot teased.
“And where did you get those skinny jeans—from the vintage store?” Mary shot back.
“Hey, these are back in! I’m glad I kept them from high school.”
Mary looked at herself in the entryway mirror.
“Do you think I should change?” Mary wasn’t typically self-conscious.
“No! You look . . . the part. Let’s go or we’ll be late.” Dot grabbed the bottle of Duckhorn they’d bought as a hostess gift, and they headed out.
THE FARM’S LONG driveway was lined with sugar maples, which were just starting to bud. The afternoon sun filtered through the leaves. The gravel road to the house was bumpy, and mud flicked onto the undercarriage of the Jeep as Mary drove slowly to the house.
Mary turned off the music. They were only about thirty minutes from their house in Cedar Falls, but it looked like another world.
“Wow. It’s beautiful.”
“So serene,” Harper said, sitting cross-legged in the backseat.
They passed several cows lining the fence.
“Look at these cuties!” Dot said, pointing them out.
The driveway curved in a loop around a big oak tree in front of the Taylors’ stone and brick ranch-style home.
To the left was a large red barn and several smaller shed-type buildings, about ten yards from the house.
On the right, a large tractor sat just inside a big metal garage that had its doors rolled open.
“Welcome!” Grace called as she came out of the house, waving one arm high in the air and shielding her eyes from the sun with the other. She was dressed as she’d been at the bookstore, in a long-sleeved flannel shirt, jeans, and lace-up boots.
Two big yellow Labs bounded around her as they barked at the Jeep.
“Did I overdress?” Mary wondered aloud before they got out of the vehicle. “They said Sunday supper!”
“Oh, no, not at all.” Dot glanced into the backseat to meet Harper’s gaze and winked. “I’m sure there’s a wedding we can drop you off at later.”
“Puppies!” Harper had always wanted one, but her parents had never given in. She got out of the car first, excited to pet the dogs and glad she’d remembered to take an allergy pill before they left the house.
Once they were all out of the Jeep, Dot provided introductions and handed the wine to Grace.
“Why, thank you. I’ll see if we have a corkscrew. Not much call for one around here!”
Mary realized they should have brought a dessert instead.
“Ray, Floyd, calm down!” Grace’s voice carried authority. The dogs stopped barking immediately. “They love company.”
Harper bent down to scratch their ears. “They’re gorgeous!”
Grace called to her husband.
“Joe, our guests are here! Come in for a bit.”
She turned to the girls.
“He never stops working.”
A trim man, about sixty years old, came out from the barn, wiping his hands on a cloth. He wore a baseball cap, thick denim shirt, Carhartt overalls, and work boots.
He took off his hat and tucked it under his arm.
His forehead was starkly white compared to the rest of a face that had been hammered by years of sun and wind.
He had big blue eyes, and the skin around them was evidence that he laughed easily.
His salt-and-pepper hair was still thick, and the girls would later learn that Grace had to trim it every two weeks in their kitchen.
“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you,” he said, shaking their hands. “Come, come. Let’s get you inside—it’s chilly out here with that breeze.”
They started in, and Joe held Mary’s elbow.
“Careful, young lady. It’s muddy as heck around here. Well, it’s mostly mud.”
Mary stepped gingerly, trying to protect her boots.
The Taylors’ home was warm and inviting. The aroma of a home-cooked meal filled the air—scents of roast beef, pepper, baked apples, and cinnamon.
They hung their coats in a crowded mudroom, everyone talking at once as they got to know each other.
“Staten Island. Brooklyn. Providence. I never met anyone from those places,” Joe said. “I’m afraid I’ve not traveled too far afield from this farm. It’s hard to get away.”
“I’d never leave if I got to live here.” Harper turned on the charm, and Dot gave her a grateful look. She wanted them to have a good time, and she was also interested in getting to know more people in the community so that she’d have better intel to send back to the insatiable Kitty Bell.
Grace led them into the family room. A large sofa and three recliners surrounded a big television screen. Iced teas were passed around along with a tray holding small bowls of mini pretzels, peanuts, and cheddar cheese Pringles. Harper sat on her hands to avoid snacking and ruining her dinner.
“How long have you lived here?” Dot asked Joe.
“All my life. I was born in Cedar Falls. Went to school with Grace and her younger sister, Mercy—the preacher’s daughters. You know what they say about dating one.” Joe winked.
He leaned back and crossed his wool-socked foot over his knee.
“I knew I wanted to marry Grace from the get-go. Thankfully, she did me the favor of becoming my wife, even though she knew I’d only ever be a farmer.”
Grace reached for Joe’s hand.
“Growing up next to the church, we didn’t farm ourselves. But we spent a lot of time at friends’ houses helping with chores. So, it wasn’t hard to convince me this would be a great life.”
“We raised three sons here,” Joe said. “The oldest, Mike, farms with us. He’s married to a great gal named Kelsey.
She’s an art teacher at the middle school.
They’ve given us our two grandkids.” He pointed to a framed photograph of two blond kids, a boy and a girl, sitting on top of a black pony with a white mane and a stripe down its nose.
“They’re at their other grandparents’ tonight.
We trade off Sunday supper with Kelsey’s parents. ”
“And our younger two sons are twins. Fraternal but they look a lot alike. Neither of them is married yet, so they’ve not given us grandkids—just several heart attacks over the years,” Grace said.
“One is a daredevil and served in the military. And the other one was on track to play professional hockey, but he broke his leg in college and decided to start his own business in town. They’re good boys. ”
“It sounds like a pretty perfect family,” Dot said.
“Well, no life is perfect. But I wouldn’t want to live any other way.” Joe reached for some pretzels and sat back again. “Enough about us, tell us about you!”
AS THE GIRLS told Joe and Grace about how they became friends at NYU, they heard a car pull into the driveway.
“That’ll be the twins,” Grace said.
“Ma, we’re here!”
“In the family room. Come meet our guests.”
They walked in with their stocking feet, having taken off their muddy boots.
Mary looked up and did a double take. She recognized the taller of the two men immediately.
And he recognized her.
“New York? What in the heck are you doing here?” It was Mary’s cop.
“You two know each other?” Dot asked.
“Oh, yeah. She’s the new troublemaker in town.” He jutted his chin toward Mary and winked at her. “Serial offender.”
“Hardly!” Mary’s cheeks grew immediately hot. She rarely let anyone get a rise out of her, but there was something about this man.
Just behind him, his twin walked in.
“Harper?”
“Tommy!”
“Mary!”
“Hey, Tommy.”
“Wait. How do you all know each other?” Dot was confused.
“I love writing in bars, and he owns the Sin Bin—the bar that’s just down from your office.”
“This is amazing,” Dot said.
“Wow. What a coincidence!” Grace loved a small-world story.
Soon they were all talking. The conversation flowed easily.
“You two really do look alike,” Harper said, looking back and forth at Tommy and his twin, whose name was Jake.
“They both have that dimple that melted my heart the first time they smiled at me,” Grace said.
“But I got the height,” Jake said, needling his brother.
“That’s all right. I got the hair,” Tommy gave it right back to him. Jake’s hair had receded so much that he’d just shaved it all off.
“Seems like a fair trade,” Mary said, thinking Jake had made the right decision not to fight the inevitable.
“Boys, enough. You’ve been harping on each other since the womb.”
Joe then stood up and suggested that they all get the chores done before supper.
Jake said he’d do the chickens and challenged Mary to go with him. She accepted, not sure what “doing the chickens” meant.
That left Tommy to handle the cows. Harper offered to join.
“Boys, get those girls some muck boots and old coats from the shed. They can’t walk out there in . . . that.”
Jake and Tommy left to retrieve the more appropriate footwear.
“Dot, why don’t you join me in the kitchen,” Grace said. “I just have a few things to warm up.”
“Happy to,” Dot said, grateful her assignment didn’t include going back into the cold. She watched Harper and Mary waddle out the front gate, huddled in their borrowed coats, and snapped a picture. She sent it to her sister. “At a farm. Check this out.”
“This ought to be good,” Anne responded right away.
“I’ll let you know if they survive.” Then Dot tucked her phone back into her jeans and joined Grace in the kitchen.