Chapter 44
MAGGIE
Itake my mother into the pig barn to find Sloane, who's almost done with the morning muck-out. Sloane looks up when she hears us, sets the pitchfork against the wall, and walks over, wiping her hands on her shorts.
"Hi. You must be Gloria," she says, offering her hand. "It's a real pleasure to finally meet you."
Mom shakes it. "Likewise." The smile she gives doesn't quite warm up. "And please thank your father from me. The pool and the goat business — very generous. The animals are thoroughly spoiled now."
"He'll be glad to hear it."
"Mm." Mom looks her over, then lifts the box in her other hand. "I've brought doughnuts. We're having coffee on the porch — come and join us?"
We head back across the yard, and Mom waves at Cassie, who's down by the horses, and at Dale, who's been patching the feed store roof all morning. "Cassie! Dale! Doughnuts!" Both of them down tools and start toward the house.
Sloane falls into step beside me. "You okay?" I ask quietly. We haven't had thirty seconds alone since last night, and from the way the day is panning out, we're not about to any time soon.
"Yeah." She wipes her hands on her shorts again. "I'm just — your mom hates me, doesn't she?"
"She doesn't hate you." I keep my voice low. "Give her time. She came with doughnuts. That's practically a hug from Gloria Dawson."
The pigs come trotting in from various directions and crowd around Mom in a snuffling, jostling huddle, snouts going straight for the doughnut box.
"No, no. Not for you." Mom lifts the box up out of range without breaking stride. "These are people doughnuts. You'll get a carrot later, greedy things, same as always."
Barbara, undeterred, leans her full weight against Mom's leg while she walks and gazes up at her with total devotion.
"Yes, yes, I missed you too," Mom says, scratching the top of Barbara's head.
We settle on the porch — Mom and Sloane in the chairs, Cassie and Dale on the bench, me on the step.
I pour the coffee and pass the mugs round, and the doughnut box does a lap and comes back lighter.
For a few minutes it's easy: Dale tells Mom about the feed store roof, and Cassie talks about San Diego and how much she'd missed the horses.
Then Mom turns to Sloane.
"So," she says, dusting sugar off her fingers. "How are you finding the work?"
"Honestly?" Sloane says. "Hard. Harder than anything I've ever done.
The first week I cried in the shower most nights and I wasn't sure I'd last but now I kind of enjoy coming here.
" She turns the coffee mug in her hands.
"I know it's meant to be a punishment, and I deserved one.
But it hasn't felt like punishment for a while now.
And I never said sorry to you — for the fence, the animals, all of it.
I should have stopped that night and I didn't. So. I'm sorry, Gloria. Truly."
Mom regards her over the rim of her mug.
"Dolly was on the highway when Maggie found her," she says.
"If a truck had come around that bend —" She stops herself and sets the mug down.
"But it didn't. And she's in that new pool of yours right now, happy as anything.
So." She looks at Sloane, and the edge has gone out of her voice.
"Apology accepted. You can spend the rest of your time here making it up to her in carrots. "
Sloane exhales, and a little of the tension goes out of her shoulders. "I can do that."
"I don't doubt it." Mom breaks off a corner of doughnut. "And when your two months are up? What then?"
Sloane gives Mom a nervous smile. "I don't know yet.
I've been thinking about it a lot, and the honest answer is I don't have a plan.
" She glances at the yard. "Everything's always been handed to me, so I've never really had to figure out what I want.
But I know I don't want to go back to how things were before. That's about as far as I've got."
"Well." Mom takes a sip of her coffee. "It's a start, I suppose."
"I guess," Sloane says. She hesitates, then looks up at Mom again. "You've built something really special here. You must be very proud of it."
"I am," Mom says. "Though it's Maggie who runs it now.
" She shoots me a warm smile. "I'm proud of her, mostly.
If she hadn't taken over from me, all these animals would have lost their freedom all over again.
She gave up a lot to keep this going." She turns back to Sloane.
"Anyway. I'm glad it hasn't been too miserable for you. "
Cassie, who has been quietly demolishing a second doughnut, pipes up. "Penny takes carrots from her hand now. Penny doesn't do that with anyone except you, me, and Maggie."
"That's true," I say.
"Penny bit a vet once," Cassie tells Sloane. "On the arm. He had to get a tetanus shot."
Mom's eyebrows go up a fraction. She knows exactly what it means for Penny to take food from a stranger. She's known that horse longer than I have.
"And she does a great job with the pigs," Dale adds, brushing crumbs off his shirt. "Mucks out, hauls feed, the lot. Doesn't complain. I've worked alongside a lot of volunteers, Gloria, and half of them quit when they find out how heavy a hay bale is." He shrugs. "She's a hard worker, that one."
Sloane has gone pink and stares into her coffee.
Mom doesn't say anything to that but I watch her take it in. Dale, who doesn't hand out praise and Cassie, who loves those horses more than she loves people. My mother trusts their judgement.
The coffee winds down. Dale heaves himself up to get back to the roof, Cassie drifts off to the horses, and Sloane stands and gathers the mugs onto the tray and carries them inside.
The moment she's through the door, Mom turns to me.
"Well?" I say. "Go on. You've got a face full of things you're not saying."
She finishes the last bite of her doughnut before she answers. "She's not what I expected," she admits. "I came here ready to dislike her and she's made it difficult. And the animals like her." A pause. "Which is why I'm worried, Maggie. It would be a great deal easier if she were awful."
"Why is that?"
"Because she'd leave when her time is up and you'd be glad to see the back of her. I don't want her to break your heart."