Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Ella
Wednesday morning, I rolled over and smiled at Honey. She sat nestled on James’s pillow, wearing her apple-printed diaper, sleeping soundly. When I sat up, she stirred and stood, immediately starting to peck at the little lint balls on the sheet.
“Stop, that’s not food.” I laughed, pushing her face away from the blanket.
After only a few days of living with her in the house, I was already in love. James and I had talked about getting a livestock guardian dog to live outside and protect the animals, but as far as an inside pet went, we were torn. I wanted a small dog. James had wanted a cat.
I guess the answer was a chicken.
Honey followed me to the bathroom. She pecked at water droplets on my feet as I stepped out of the shower and then into the kitchen so I could make scrambled eggs.
I had chicken feed and a watering bowl for her near the laundry room, but she loved to beg for scraps instead, pecking at the edge of my plate until I fed her.
“This feels wrong,” I told her as she gobbled a scrambled egg. Who knew chickens were cannibals?
There was a knock at my back door, and I startled a little but then relaxed when I saw Seth through the glass window at the top. I was wearing black sweatpants and an oversized shirt, and my hair was in a messy topknot, but I couldn’t be bothered to care.
After walking to the door, I opened it.
“Hey, Seth,” I greeted him.
Every morning, there was a freshly chopped a pile of wood with a little note on top, usually a joke. The Bible verses had stopped after I flipped out on him, but as I eyed the note on there today, I wondered what it would say.
He held a package in his hands. “Hey, this came to my house with your name on it. Post-man mix-up. Seemed real urgent from chicken diapers dot com.”
I yanked the package out of his hands, and he raised an eyebrow.
“Thank you. Don’t judge me,” I told him in a joking tone.
He grinned and my stomach flipped over a little. He was very handsome.
He pointed at something over my shoulder. “Is that…a chicken in a diaper?”
I followed his finger to see Honey pecking madly at the crust of my toast that was left on the plate. Her black tail was shooting up and out of her printed diaper.
“Yes, it is.” I crossed my arms and dared him to question why I had a chicken as a house pet.
He backed down after that, nodding. “Looks cute,” he added, but I knew he was just being kind and likely judging my sanity. “Maggie says she’s excited to see you tonight, and don’t forget to bring a dish to share. Six o’clock.”
I rolled my eyes and groaned. “I told her I’d think about it.”
His smile was back. “That’s Maggie. If you don’t show up, it will get worse. She’ll invite you to church on Sunday, prayer meeting on Monday, and probably even bridge club.”
I mock gasped. “Not bridge club.”
Seth reached up and grabbed the brim of his hat. “Good day, Ella.”
“Yeah, you too.” I gave him a small smile, feeling my old self slowly returning. I loved joking and witty banter. Being mean or nasty wasn’t my style.
I lugged the firewood in and stared at Honey. “Guess we better cook up a dish for this thing.”
The last thing I needed was Maggie inviting me to church stuff all week long and making me feel guilty for not going. I’d go this one time and be done with it.
Later that night, I put on a nice ankle-length floral-patterned dress and curled my hair. When women got together like this, they tended to look their best, and I didn’t want to be the scraggly one who looked like she’d just lost her husband and was unkempt. Even if that was true.
I’d made a Crock-Pot of my grandma’s spicy chili and loaded up the fire for Honey before locking her inside.
That little booger would follow me everywhere if I weren’t careful.
The weather was crisp but not too cold with my jacket and my boots on.
I loved being outside, so I decided to walk.
I hefted the Crock-Pot in my hands, wrapped a towel around it, and headed over.
As I crested the hill, Buster sounded the alarm.
There was a line of ten cars outside, and Seth was talking to a group of men that I assumed were his ranch hands. They all wore cowboy hats and work gloves and nodded when he spoke.
Buster jumped up on me, nostrils flaring, and Seth left the conversation with his men and yanked the dog down.
“We don’t jump on nice ladies,” he told the dog, and I smiled.
“You only teach him to jump on the mean ones?” I asked, and that caused Seth to grin.
He pointed to the Crock-Pot. “Chili?”
I nodded. “You have a good nose.”
“Maggie lets me come up at the very end and make a plate. Make sure and save me some.” He winked.
“Will do,” I told him, and then he walked me over to the hay barn with a staircase on the side. “Maggie’s apartment is up there,” he gestured.
I gave him a nod and walked up the stairs, my palms sweating a little at the thought of meeting a bunch of old widows.
My story wasn’t like theirs. I hadn’t had fifty good years with James before he left me.
And his death hadn’t been expected like these women had probably expected their husbands to pass at such an old age.
I didn’t want to say that my pain or grief was worse, but it was different.
And I hoped it wasn’t going to be a big cry fest the entire time because I’d had enough of that.
My stomach had felt a little off this morning, so I was going to use that as an excuse if I felt uncomfortable and needed to leave.
I knocked on the door, but I could hear loud talking and laughing on the other side, so I wasn’t sure anyone had heard me.
I peered down at Seth again to see that his men had left and he was rolling up a hose. He glanced up at me and gestured that I should just walk inside.
Turning the handle, I pulled the door open and was met with a dozen pairs of eyes.
“Is that Ella? Oh, she’s beautiful!” one lady in her fifties said.
Great, they’d already been talking about me.
I gave a nervous smile and waved while balancing the Crock-Pot with my one arm. The first thing I noticed as I did a quick scan was that there were not all old widows like I’d thought. Well, some of them were. Four ladies looked over seventy, but some were in their thirties, forties, and fifties.
One woman about my age walked over and took the chili from me. “Come on in. We were just about to play Exploding Kittens.”
I raised my eyebrows. “You play Exploding Kittens?” The card game was fun but kind of weird and not what I expected of a church meetup.
Maggie nodded. “I play winner!”
I shut the door behind me, and the young woman set the Crock-Pot full of chili down on a whole table full of other delicious food.
“I’m Ruthie.” She held out a hand to me. Her long blonde hair was draped over one shoulder, and my gaze fell to her necklace to see a wedding ring hanging from it.
I blushed as I realized I was still wearing mine and took her hand to shake it.
Anna peered at my ring. “Oh, that’s beautiful.
Funny story: Zach proposed to me by baking my ring into a muffin since I’m a baker.
” She held up the ring on her necklace for me to inspect closer.
I smiled at the pretty pear-shaped diamond.
“But he obviously didn’t tell me, and so I took a huge bite.
Chipped my tooth and almost swallowed it. ”
I fell into giggles. “For real?”
Maggie came up beside Ruthie, smiling. “Zach was a sweetheart, but not the sharpest tool in the shed.”
Ruthie grinned at that. “It’s true. Gosh, I miss him.”
Tears sprung at the edges of my eyes because I missed James, too. I stroked the ring on my finger. “When James proposed, he was so nervous I thought he was having a seizure.” I shook my hands wildly to imitate him, and everyone around me fell into fits of laughter.
The other women jumped in with hilarious stories about their husbands, and it felt so good. It felt so good to just talk about James in a way that was natural and with people who understood. It wasn’t some mopey sob story.
“Fifty years and I never told Clint that the reason he had trouble sleeping and constantly woke up to weird sounds was because he was farting,” one of the older ladies said.
I laughed so hard then that I cried. Ruthie helped me fix a plate, and then we all played cards and crafted and listened to music. It was the most fun I’d had in a long time, and I was so happy I’d come. There was an opening prayer and Bible verse, but that was it.
One thing became very clear as the night progressed: The loss of these women’s husbands had driven them closer to God, whereas mine had pushed me away from Him.
They talked about the “strength of the Lord” and the Bible verses that got them through, and I just wanted to tear up my Bible and scream at God.
Clearly, something was wrong with me, but I was too ashamed to admit that my faith had died with James.
Ruthie was digging into a piece of cherry pie when Gertrude had just finished her story about how Naomi and Ruth in the Bible gave her strength that God restores all He takes.
Ruthie shook her head. “Y’all ran to the Lord when your husbands died, and I closed the door in His face.”
I perked up at her raw truth, which was similar to my own. I wanted to hear more about it and how she was now.
Maggie waved her off. “That’s okay, darlin’. God doesn’t care about that. He’s just happy you came back to Him.”
Ruthie leaned into Maggie and gave her a side hug.
Before I knew it, everyone was packing up to go, and Seth slipped inside to make his plate as all the women fussed over him and added more and more food until he suddenly had two plates and a bowl.
Ruthie smiled at Seth, and I wondered if maybe she liked him. I wouldn’t blame her. He was very good-looking and seemed like a sweet guy from what I knew.
Ruthie noticed me watching her and explained. “That man has been through a lot. It’s nice to see all the women dote on him.”