Chapter 14
Chapter fourteen
An hour and a half later, I’m pulling into the drive after dropping Emmy off, and I’m still blindsided. When she told me what Ben was planning, I was completely speechless for several seconds, opening and closing my mouth like a fish.
“I knew I shouldn’t have told you!” Emmy cried. “I wanted to warn you because I didn’t really think you were expecting this, but Ben is twenty, Abby. He’s a man, and he knows what he wants.”
I shook my head, trying to organize my panicked thoughts. “They’re still so young,” I finally managed to gasp out. “Back in New Jersey, Bethany would only have just finished her freshman year of college.”
“Well, life is different here,” Emmy argued. “And they’ve both grown up a lot. If they know what they want, what does it matter?”
“But Ben is her first boyfriend—”
“And Bethany is Ben’s first girlfriend,” Emmy fired back. “Would you really want it any other way? Getting their hearts broken time and time again?”
“No, but… Ben might know what he wants, but I just want to make sure Bethany does.”
“And why wouldn’t she want Ben?” Emmy demanded.
“I’m not saying anything against Ben, Emmy,” I protested.
“It’s just a big decision to make at such a young age.
” I felt like I was skirting the edges of an argument with my best friend, and that was something I really didn’t want to do.
I suspected Emmy felt my reluctance to have Bethany proposed to was somehow a rejection of her son, but it really wasn’t.
I just wanted Bethany to experience more of life—travel, school, and work—before settling down into a life of marriage, housework, and kids.
But I felt like I couldn’t explain that to Emmy—who didn’t have much of any of those three things before getting married—without offending her, so I simply said, “I’m just surprised. Thank you for… for telling me.”
We spent the rest of the trip mostly silent, in a way that wasn’t tense but definitely felt a little uneasy.
I hate the thought that Emmy and I might have a falling-out over this.
We might be best friends, but I can’t help but wonder how we’ll work as mutual in-laws.
Already I’m picturing our not-quite-arguments about the wedding, the babies that will come along, or any number of things.
And yet this is Emmy. I love her. And even if she thinks getting married at nineteen is fine if that’s what you want and I don’t, at least not when it comes to my daughter, well… we need to make this work. For Bethany and Ben, but also for us as friends.
My mind is jumbled, my shoulders tense despite the massage, as I climb out of the car and head inside.
“Mom!” Rose runs toward me, throwing her arms around my waist as I stagger back from the force of her hug. “I missed you! Did you get me a present?”
“No, I did not,” I tell her on a laugh as I return her hug. “Rose, I was gone for less than forty-eight hours. That does not merit a present.”
“Aww…” She grins at me, giving me one extra squeeze before letting go. “Wait ‘til you see what Daddy’s done!”
Words to cause my heart to plummet like a stone.
Over the twenty-odd years of our marriage, I’ve gone away only a few times, and each time Josh has done something—bought a car, taken all the kids to a resort in the Poconos for a last-minute treat, booked a year of weekly housecleaning.
They’re always decisions that are meant to make my life easier, and yet somehow, they don’t, and they cost a fortune.
I should have braced myself for something like this, but with Emmy telling me about Ben’s proposal plans, the possibility of Josh’s impulsive actions slipped my mind.
“What has he done?” I ask Rose warily.
“Come see.” Tugging my hand, she leads me through the kitchen—which is not too much of a mess—out to the backyard.
I look around, hardly knowing what to expect, but everything seems comfortably the same.
The chickens are in their run, pecking and clucking.
Chewy and Billy, our two goats, are in the far field, and Mabel is by the barn, her calf Daisy next to her.
The pigs are sprawled in their outdoor area, enjoying the sun; they’ve grown a lot in the last couple of weeks, and I am starting to understand how it will be possible to get hundreds of pounds of meat off them in just a few months.
The garden is full of green shoots, which gladdens my heart. In the greenhouse, my potatoes have finally chitted enough to be planted out. Everything looks fine. It looks great.
So, what has Josh done?
“Ah, there you are!” He strolls from the field beyond the barn, grinning in a way that confirms he is definitely up to something. “Did you have a nice time?”
“Yes, great,” I answer automatically. I wonder when I will get a chance to tell him about Ben. “Rose says you’ve done something.”
“Rose!” Josh gives her a laughingly admonishing look. “You didn’t spoil the surprise, I hope?”
“I didn’t say anything!” Rose huffs. “I just said you’d done something.”
“So, what have you done?” I ask, trying to sound upbeat and interested rather than alarmed.
Josh’s grin widens. “Remember when I said I wanted to get my business plan sorted out?”
“Yes…” I’m not sure what that has to do with whatever he’s done, but I’m sure it’s all going to make sense to me in a few minutes… for better or for worse.
“Well, it’s sorted,” he announces. “And we’ve all been working hard this weekend to make it happen.”
“Okay…” I nod slowly. “But make what happen?”
Josh reaches for my hand. “Let me show you.”
Holding my hand, he leads me past the coop, the vegetable garden, the orchard, the pond, and the barn to the fields on the far side of our property, meandering up the hillside.
Josh has been working over the last year to clear the land; he has plans to grow wheat and oats one day, but for now, it’s just been pasture for our goats and cow.
We walk past the first field up toward the woods behind the house.
I really have no idea where he’s taking me.
Rose is dancing at my heels, clearly incandescent with excitement.
Josh seems ebullient now, his face alight as he leads me through a newly cut path through the woods, the ground covered in mulch and woodchips and lined with stones.
“When did you do this?” I murmur. I hardly ever go back this far, but I think I’d remember this path.
“Jack’s been working on it for the last week or so,” Josh replies. It seems like everyone is on this secret, whatever it is, except for me. I’m not sure how to feel about that, but I decide to just go with it. Whatever he’s got planned, my husband is clearly very excited about it.
We follow the path as it twists up the wooded hillside, then emerges into a small wildflower-strewn meadow; I can see the top of our house below the trees.
“Ta-da!” Josh exclaims, and I turn from the view of our house to survey the meadow. There are three substantial-looking canvas tents, each one on a raised wooden platform, along with what looks like a stable block.
I turn questioningly to him, and he laughs.
“They’re yurts,” he explains. “Glamping yurts.”
“Glamping yurts,” I repeat.
“Come see.” He leads me to the first one, pulling aside the canvas and helping me step up onto the wooden platform.
Inside, it’s surprisingly spacious and high-ceilinged.
It doesn’t feel like a tent at all. “There’s room for a double bed and a couple of armchairs,” Josh informs me.
“And we’ll have a fire pit and some Adirondack chairs outside. We want a deluxe experience.”
“So, we’d have people come and stay?” I surmise, although I suppose that’s obvious.
“Yes, of course! One hundred and fifty dollars a night is the going rate. I think we could have the whole summer booked out. These beauties should be ready by the beginning of July.”
“But…” I shake my head slowly. I hate to be the downer in all this, but I know how my husband likes to get ahead of himself. “What about zoning? And sanitation? And—”
“Relax, Abby.” Josh holds up a hand to forestall any further questions. “I’m working on the zoning, which I don’t think will be a problem, and sanitation is taken care of. William, Jack, and I built two self-composting toilets and three outdoor showers, supplied by rainwater. It’s fine.”
Taking my hand again, he shows me the facilities, and they are surprisingly attractive.
The self-composting toilet is outfitted like a proper bathroom, with a storage box of mulchy woodchips that you use to cover your business once you’ve finished.
The showers and sinks are supplied by a tank of rainwater, which can be filled manually in seasons of drought.
They hold enough water for several showers and uses of the sink.
It seems like my husband has thought of everything.
And yet… I can’t help but wish, just a little bit, that he’d run it all by me first. Having glampers on our property is a big deal, especially when I find out that he’s planning on offering them full cooked breakfasts as part of the “luxury experience”, along with fresh eggs, milk, yogurt, and cheese.
That will obviously involve my effort, and with a baby…
“If we can rent all three yurts for just sixty days a year,” Josh tells me as we walk back toward the woodland path, “that’s twenty-seven thousand dollars.”
Well, that figure makes me feel a little better. I know there will be overheads I can’t even imagine now, but that’s a lot of money for us.
“Do you think we can get that many people?” I ask a little dubiously.
“Absolutely.” He nods, firm in his certainty.
“When we can afford it, I want to get a hot tub and maybe a trampoline, a ping-pong table, that kind of thing. And we can offer paddleboards and fishing for the pond… I know it’s not that big a body of water, but they could still have fun.
Plus, kids could help around the homestead; parents love that kind of hands-on experience.
We can do a little more landscaping, too, make everything more attractive. ”
He glances critically at the three yurts on their wooden platforms while I start to panic again.
I’m picturing strangers wandering around the property, poking their heads into the barn, the coop, maybe even the house.
Late-night parties that keep everyone up—sound travels right across the valley.
Trash left around that we’ll have to pick up.
But… twenty-seven thousand dollars. And we do need to do something to make ends meet a little more; there’s no doubt about that. Besides, as I look at Josh’s beaming face, I know he’s excited about this. He’s thrilled.
So, there is really only one response I can make.
“This is totally amazing, Josh. I love it.”
A wave of relief breaks over his face, then his grin widens. “Really? You think so?”
“Absolutely.” He’s worked so hard on this, and he’s so proud. And if it works out, it will be great, and we’ll get used to having people around. It could even be fun, meeting new people all the time. “I really am,” I tell him, and stand on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek.