Aaron?' But he didn't hear her reply.
Mary had been sitting on the grass under a linden tree at the edge of the shaded yard when the pair of comedians raised their hullabaloo. She saw the meeting between Aaron and Pris, and, try though she might, she could not stop a twinge of jealousy from constricting her heart. She didn't have time to dwell on it, though, for Aunt Mabel plopped down beside her on the grass, having finally been turned out of her own kitchen. 'Fetch me a glass of beer, sonny!' she yelled imperiously to a boy nearby. 'I worked up a sweat with all that laughin'! How you doin' girl? You havin' a good time?' 'I really am, Aunt Mabel. I don't know when I've felt this relaxed. Of course, it's easy to feel that way at your place. You know, it's just like home to me.' 'I still like to hear you say that, girl, and that's as it should be. Ain't none of my own girls means more to me than you.' 'Well, then, you should have let me come and help you this week just like your own had to. I can tell an extra hand would have been kept busy.' 'Pshaw!' Mabel Garner snorted. 'I set them kids to work, and the place never knew what hit it!'
Mary couldn't help laughing. The boy came back with a glass of beer for Mabel Garner and a telltale mustache of foam on his mouth. 'You let up snitchin' that stuff, boy, or you'll be sicker'n a hog in a barley patch!' she admonished him, then raised the glass to down half its length before smacking her appre- ciation and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. 'I suspect you kept yourself busy enough without comin' to help around here this week. I seen them strawberry pre- serves you brung for Catherine, and they're as pretty as if I put 'em up myself.' 'I put them up this week, but just barely! Aunt Mabel, you know what I did? I fell asleep cleaning berries. I don't know what came over me, but I was cleaning berries in the kitchen, sitting at the table, and I got so tired. The men were nearly due for dinner, and I knew it was time to start the meal. But before I knew what hit me, I was sound asleep and Jonathan was waking me up. I've never done a thing like that before in my life. And no dinner ready for Jonathan and Aaron. I felt so foolish!'
Mabel Garner picked a blade of grass and bit on its soft, sweet end, took a swig of beer, and said, 'Used to happen to me all the time when I was first pregnant.' She was looking off again at the comedians across the yard. 'When you were first pregnant?' Mary's voice was quiet. 'Why?' 'Most natural thing in the world for a woman's body to call for rest with all the changes that's goin' on inside it then. Happens mostly at the beginning and the very end.'
Of course, Mabel Garner knew how badly her niece missed having children of her own, and she didn't wish to raise any false hopes in her. Yet, with no mother near at hand, Mabel felt it her duty to question Mary. Anyway, she considered herself the nearest thing to a mother Mary had, after the years the girl had lived with the Garner family. 'You had any other signs, Mary?' she asked. 'No.' But she hesitated before adding, 'I'm not sure what some of them might be.' 'You missed any of your monthlies?' 'Not exactly. I'm a couple weeks longer than usual, but I hadn't thought much of it.' 'Well now, mind, I'm not sayin'…it could be anything at all, but you been sick? Throwin' up or anything?' 'No.' 'You feel unusually thirsty lately?' 'No.' 'You get dizzy spells?' 'No.'
But after she said it, Mary remembered the day in the berry patch when she'd accused the sun of making her dizzy. She'd spent hotter, longer hours in the garden before which had not affected her like that day. 'Sometimes when I have to stoop over for a time, like berry-picking, I get kind of light-headed, but I figured it was just the heat.' 'Did it happen any other times?' Mabel was being very casual now, while Mary's insides were jumping and shaking and doing all kinds of monkeyshines. She sat up and hugged her knees to get a grip on herself, both inside and out. 'Just in church this morning. I felt a little light-headed, is all. But it was awfully close in there.' 'You ever feel like fainting in church before?' 'No.' 'Well, girl, you sure got the signs of an expectin' mother. How about hungry…you been awful hungry lately? You get the feelin' in your throat after you eat like the food's fillin' your whole neck?' 'I–I don't remember. I don't think so.' 'Well, you watch for it. It's a sure sign you're pregnant. When you're young, you got a constitution like iron and you can eat anything. But get pregnant and your food likes to roil your insides. Even if you don't get sick, you get that full, burning feeling in your throat.'
Mary was sitting there gripping her knees and looking, to Mabel Garner, as if the feeling were in her throat right now. 'Now, it's too early to tell, girl. But you take care of yourself and rest a bit between chores until you know. If your monthly hasn't come in a couple of weeks, you can be pretty sure.' 'Please don't tell anyone yet, Aunt Mabel.' 'Don't be foolish, girl. I wouldn't take that pleasure away from you after all these years you been waitin' to do it yourself.' 'Thank you…thanks, Aunt Mabel,' Mary said, leaning over to kiss the sunburned cheek beside her. 'I've got to think for a while now.' Then she got up and excused herself.
Mabel Garner wasn't piqued at Mary's sudden departure. She knew she'd planted a seed of mighty long- awaited hope in Mary's heart. A thing like that'd bear some dwellin' on, and she knew Mary needed time alone to do just that. 'The good Lord's been holdin' out on that child long enough,' she mused to herself, watching the slim from walk away. 'It's a damn sight time He came around!'
There wasn't much space to be alone in the busy farmyard. Mary wandered among the people, returning greetings, stopping to talk when others approached her, but she avoided long conversations for she found her mind swaying with a force of its own. It was impossible to keep from touching her stomach. As if what Aunt Mabel had said was certain, she crossed her arms over her front, pulling her forearms against the place where she thought a new life lived. She knew that if it were true, the life had been placed there by Aaron, for Jonathan hadn't sought her since his return from the city. She hadn't bothered to ask herself why, for Jonathan was not a demanding husband, and found the need only occasionally. She remembered how in days past she'd sometimes had to turn his way first, when she'd been reck- oning on Doc Haymes's calendar. She was accustomed to lengths of time sometimes longer than this had been, times he didn't approach her, especially at this time of the year when the field work seemed to fill him.
Jonathan was pitching horseshoes in a foursome and, watching him, she recalled how he'd requested the liaison between herself and Aaron, but it was little consolation now. Would this bring about a rift between the brothers?
He sought her out later and said he was going home to do chores and would return in time for the dancing. She smiled at him, quailing inwardly, wishing she could go home with him, for she again felt dully tired and remembered Aunt Mabel's directive to rest whenever she could. But it would look strange if she were to miss the dance, so she stayed be- hind. She saw Aaron stop Jonathan as he left the yard, but Jonathan motioned Aaron to stay. It stung her heart. She imagined him saying, 'Should I come home and help you with the chores, Jonathan?' and her husband replying, 'Naw, I'll do it. You stay.' And again she envisioned an end to their brotherliness. Aaron turned as Jonathan left the yard and, seeing her studying him across the way, smiled and raised his chin in a kind of backward nod, a nonchalant greeting. She again put her arms across her stomach.
Darkness fell and lanterns were set around the yard to light the plank floor. Now and then there would be the flash of a dish towel in the lantern light as one of the women was abducted from the kitchen by an impatient partner. Mary took a turn at kit- chen duty but no partners came to abduct her, and in her present mood she was grateful. The children danced on the dance floor when they could get by with it, and on the grass when they couldn't. But one by one their number dwindled as tired babies were bedded down on blankets in the straw- filled wagons to sleep while their parents raced the clock into Sunday.
Mary had lost her yen for dancing and spent the night anxious to go home, but Aaron captured her once and in- sisted on a dance. He was polite, though, and kept his dis- tance. She was glad when the dance was over. He noticed how quiet she was, that she hadn't had any of her usual chatter. He made no comment, for he thought her pleasantly worn out from the day's festivities.
The long day ended well past midnight with Aunt Mabel calling to all the leave-takers to return next day and help them finish off the remaining food and enjoy some more dancing before the floor was taken up. With the moonlight to guide them, the horses moved off homeward, bearing their weary owners. Some slept, to awaken in their own yards, finding that the horses had made their way unaided by hu- man direction.
In their rig Mary rode home sandwiched again between Jonathan and Aaron, her stomach sometimes gently buffeted by her husband's elbow while its side rested softly against Aaron.
14
The waving pastures of wild hay had begun trading their verdure for the yellowing hue of dry ripeness. Jonathan knew it wouldn't be long now until it could be cut. Standing in the hay near the edge of the pasture, he
