But what about Betsy’s dream? She’d pressed and prayed and pursued as much as she was able, but nothing had happened. At what point did pursuing the dream become futile? Was there a point at which the dreamer should just let it go? But what were you supposed to do when the dream felt fundamental to the fabric of your being, of your soul? What then?
fifteen
Betsy
“Can we go see the cows?” Addie asked the next morning as Walsh darted out of her chair to follow Etta into the den. “Do you think they’re awake yet?”
“They’ve been awake for hours.” Betsy had just poured her second cup of coffee. “We can go see them when they have their breakfast, but I have an idea. Let’s get dressed and go see the hens first. We can see how many eggs they have for us, then we’ll check on the cows.”
Addie’s eyes grew wide. “Will there be any baby chicks?”
“Probably not today. But you can help me pull the eggs out of the nests.”
Walsh ran around the backyard while Addie tiptoed into the henhouse. She was hesitant at first, but curiosity and the anticipation of speckled eggs got the best of her. Betsy showed her how to feel underneath the hens for the eggs and place them in the basket. Addie sprinkled a scoop of chicken feed on the ground, then darted out the gate to join Walsh on the swing. Betsy gave the hens one more scoop and locked the gate behind her.
By the time they made it to the barn, most of the cows had been turned out to pasture. A few, those with any hint of ailment or problem, were still in the side pen for a closer inspection. Ty looked up when they entered the barn. “Well, good morning,” he said to the girls. He drew close to Betsy, snaked his arm around her waist. “And good morning to you,” he whispered.
Addie pulled on Betsy’s hand. “Aunt Betsy, did you know Uncle Ty snores?”
“Hey now.” Ty squatted down and looked in her face. “That’s supposed to be our secret.”
Betsy laughed. “It’s not a secret, Addie. I think the neighbors down the street know Uncle Ty snores. The cows know for sure.”
Addie giggled.
“What’s on tap for today?” he asked as Addie stepped away from him and Betsy to explore the barn. Walsh ran headlong into a bench, tumbled over it, then righted herself and knelt down to peer at something on the floor.
“You’re looking at it. The girls wanted to see the cows. Addie keeps saying she wants to ride one.”
Addie whipped her head back around to Ty when she heard that.
“Hmm,” he said, scratching his chin. “I have to go see Roger about a part for the tractor, but Walker owes me, so I think he’s your guy.”
Walker’s head popped up from the other side of a cow lingering in the milking line. “What’s that, Mr. Franklin?”
“I need someone to show these little ladies around the barn. Since you ditched me early last Saturday to visit your girlfriend, you can help out for a little while longer today, right?”
In addition to his weekday work, Walker also helped with the milking and cleaning on Saturday mornings. His daddy wanted him to work as much as possible while he was out of school for the summer.
“Oh, uh, sure,” Walker said, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I mean, I’m supposed to meet Erin . . .” He caught the look in Ty’s eye. “But yeah, I can help.”
Ty clapped his hands together. “Great. Why don’t you take Addie and Walsh to see Rosie?”
Betsy smiled. Rosie was her favorite out of all 218 cows. Her face was kinder than the rest, if that was possible. Breeding attempts had so far been unsuccessful with her. Ty suspected she was sterile, but Betsy had high hopes for her.
Addie and Walsh followed Walker to the side pen. She turned to follow them, but Ty caught her arm. “How do the girls seem to you?”
Betsy shrugged. “I think they’re okay. Neither of them has mentioned Jenna today.”
Ty nodded, bit the inside of his cheek. “Two weeks is a long time to leave your kids.”
Betsy inhaled, watching as Walker led the girls into the pen where Rosie stood, munching grass.
“I bet she misses them,” he said. “I hope she misses them. I mean, look at them.”
Addie stood in front of Rosie’s face, rubbing the top of the cow’s nose. Then Walsh held her face against Rosie’s huge fuzzy cheek. She closed her eyes and smiled. Rosie kept munching, unconcerned about the two small people petting her.
Betsy nodded. After all these years, she could still read her sister’s face like fingers on Braille. And what she’d seen on Jenna’s face when she left the previous week spanned the entire spectrum of emotion, from the delight of sudden freedom to the terror of someone letting go. Which of those faces came closest to the actual truth?
“We can’t eat these.”
“You can’t eat grapes?” Betsy had just set a lunch of grilled cheese and grapes in front of the girls on the back porch. “Why not?” Had Jenna forgotten to tell her the girls were allergic to grapes?
“Mommy always cuts our grapes in half. If we eat them like this, they could get stuck in our throats and make us choke.”
Of course. Betsy got a knife from the kitchen counter and returned to the porch. “Note to self: cut grapes in half,” she said as she cut. “Got it.”
Addie pulled Walsh’s hand back when she tried to grab a grape as Betsy sliced them. “Careful,” she said.
After
