The Sisters Hemingway

by Annie England Noblin

  “But we can’t stay here forever,” Martha finished.

  Crowley nodded. “Me an’ Brody plan on comin’ by tomorrow morning to help ya get this yard cleaned up,” he said. “Yer aunt would never let me do too much outside, but yer lawn could use mowin’, and we could get some of these twigs out of the way and clear the garden up. Maybe replace a few a them rotten boards in the porch.”

  “You don’t need to do that,” Hadley said.

  “’Course we do,” Crowley replied. “Won’t take no time.”

  “Thanks,” Martha replied before Hadley could respond. “We’d really appreciate it.”

  “Ain’t no problem,” Crowley said, but his cheeks warmed with pleasure. “It’s been a long time since this place looked right. I’m glad yer here to make it nice again.”

  Martha wasn’t sure anything could make the property look nice again or that two weeks would do the trick, but she didn’t say it to Old Crow. He was just trying to be nice, and she knew that he probably missed the farm as much as the rest of them did. She wondered if he missed her mother and sister, too. Without taking the time to think about it, she said, “Would you like to come in for dinner?”

  “That’s real nice of ya, Miss Martha, but I don’t want to put ya out none.”

  “You aren’t putting us out at all,” Hadley replied. “Come on in, and we’ll fix you something to eat. It’s the least we can do.”

  “It’s not much,” Martha said. “We’re just making sandwiches, but my mother always said sandwiches taste better when there’s someone else making them for you.”

  “Your mother was a smart lady,” Crowley replied. “A smart, smart lady.”

  Martha followed everyone into the house and began to put away the groceries. Despite the situation they all found themselves in, she figured that Hadley and Pfeiffer would agree that this day had been a good one. With both of her sisters in the kitchen with her, unpacking groceries and chatting with Old Crow, it was starting to feel a little bit like old times. She pulled two tomatoes out of a bag and put them on the cutting board Pfeiffer found that morning while she was looking for the drying rack for the dishes. Martha couldn’t wait to slice them for her tomato sandwich. When she turned around to grab a knife, however, she stopped.

  “Uh, Pfeiffer,” she said, pointing at one of the chairs that was pulled back from the table. “Why is your dog sitting there like it’s waiting to be fed like a human?”

  “What?” Pfeiffer closed the refrigerator and turned around. “I don’t know. Maybe she’s hungry.”

  “Feed it,” Martha replied. “But not at the table.”

  Pfeiffer sighed. “Where is the dog food?”

  Martha handed her a bag of food from the counter and turned back around to slice the tomatoes. Pfeiffer hesitated for a second and then took a slice of cheese with the bag.

  “Hey,” Martha said. “That’s our cheese. Dogs can’t eat cheese.”

  “Sure they can,” Crowley said. “Ain’t gonna hurt it none.”

  “Come on,” Pfeiffer said to the dog. “Come on outside and have your dinner.”

  “This old place is feelin’ like a home again,” Crowley said, watching Pfeiffer awkwardly pour out dog food for the basset hound. “Yer aunt would be glad about it.”

  “It’s going to take a lot of work to make this place comfortable,” Hadley said. “Lots and lots of work. And money.”

  “Your mama never had much money to speak of,” Crowley replied. “She always managed to make this place right pretty.”

  “And she couldn’t keep up with it,” Hadley replied. “Not with the money she made.”

  “We did okay,” Martha replied. She looked over at Hadley. She didn’t know why her sister said that. Nobody in Cold River had much. But her mother always said that having each other meant more than having money, and for a while, at least, Martha believed her. Now she enjoyed having money, but her mother was right in that not having anyone to share it with made having it all the more lonely.

  “Doing okay doesn’t pay the bills,” Hadley said, refusing to meet her sister’s gaze.

  “When your mama and daddy first got married, this place was a shambles,” Crowley replied. “Took them months to get it cleaned up. And to get the plumbin’ workin’ again. She ever tell you they had to use an outhouse for the first year they lived here?”

  “No,” Martha and Hadley replied simultaneously.

  “It weren’t pretty, let me tell ya. Yer daddy had to fix the plumbin’ all by himself ’cuz your mama was pregnant with you, Hadley, and couldn’t do anything ’cept sit in the house and sweat like a penguin in Arizona.”

  “We have heard about that,” Martha said. “She said Hadley made her sweat like crazy, even though it was the middle of the winter when she was born.”

  “Ain’t a one of ya got children?” Crowley asked.

  Hadley took a deep breath and got a look on her face like she was counting to ten. Finally, she said, “No, none of us have kids.”

  “We’ve all been busy with our lives since leaving Cold River,” Martha said, giving Hadley an encouraging smile. “Kids don’t always fit into the plan.”

  “That’s what your aunt used to say,” Crowley replied.

  Martha wanted to reply but stopped herself when she realized that Crowley looked as if he might begin to cry. She knew he and Aunt Bea were about the same age, and she knew they’d gone to school together for a while before Crowley quit to work on his parents’ farm. Crowley stuck around Cold River, but he never married or had any children either. Maybe he thought it was a good thing that she and her sisters were childless. It certainly wasn’t something she minded much—not having children. But Hadley . . . well, Hadley was different. She’d always wanted children, and now that she was thirty-eight, maybe she felt like it was too late to be hopeful that Mark would finally agree to the one thing she wanted.

  “Martha?”

  Martha looked around the room, suddenly realizing she’d gotten lost in her own thoughts. “I’m sorry,” she said. “What is it?”

  “Do you want this pepper jack cheese for your tomato sandwich?” Hadley asked.

  Martha shook her head no, but she found her mouth saying, “Yes.”

  “I won’t tell anyone you ate dairy,” Hadley replied. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “When I gain twelve pounds before going back to Nashville, the secret will be out,” Martha replied, but she took the cheese anyway. Pepper jack was her favorite. “I need the lettuce, too.”

  Pfeiffer returned, the dog in tow. They all watched as the dog made itself comfortable underneath the pie safe. “I tried to get it to stay outside,” Pfeiffer said. “But it started scratching at the door again.”

  “Don’t you think we ought to give it a name?” Martha asked. “That way we can stop referring to it as it.”

  “I agree,” Pfeiffer said. “But I can’t think of anything good.”

  Hadley thought for a minute. “What was the name of the basset hound in that Disney cartoon that Mary used to love?” she asked. “What was that show called? The Aristocats or something?”

  “That was it,” Martha said. “We had to watch that movie every morning before we could do anything else.”

  “Lafayette!” Pfeiffer said triumphantly. “The dog’s name was Lafayette.”

  “That’s as good a name as any,” Crowley replied.

  “It’s a boy’s name, though,” Martha said.

  “I like it,” Pfeiffer replied. “But if I never have to watch that movie again, it’ll be too soon.”

  “Me too,” Hadley replied. “That was back when we had that old television set that sat on the floor. God, that thing was huge. And heavy. When we got that new one, I insisted the old one go in my and Pfeiffer’s room. It lasted about a week before the picture turned all green and fuzzy and we had to lug it back down the stairs to throw out.”

  “We got a flattened box to put on the stairs to slide it back down,” Pfeiffer s
aid. “Mary used the box for like a week after that to slide down the stairs until she got her leg on a loose nail and had to get a tetanus shot.”

  “She didn’t even cry. Mom didn’t realize it until she found blood on the box an hour later,” Martha said. “She hid under the bed so she wouldn’t have to go see Dr. O’Conner.”

  “And then he gave her a lollipop and a sticker after the shot, and he was her new favorite person. She expected a lollipop every time she saw him. Even in the supermarket,” Hadley continued.

  Crowley was watching them from the table, chewing the fried bologna sandwich Hadley had fixed for him. Martha caught him watching them, and he gave her a sheepish smile and stood up from his chair. “I think I’ll take this and get on back to my place,” he said. “I gotta get some work finished while there’s still a bit a daylight if I’m gonna be here first thing tomorrow mornin’.”

  “You really don’t have to—” Hadley began.

  “I want to,” Crowley replied, cutting her off. “I want to, and it’s what yer mama and aunt would want me ta do.”

  Hadley nodded.

  “I wish they could see this,” Crowley continued, pointing his sandwich at the sisters. “All of ya, back here again. It’s been lonely these last years.”

  Martha turned around in order to avoid letting him see a small tear slip down her cheek. She knew what lonely felt like, and for some reason, the thought of the old man she’d known all her life feeling lonely as well made her feel a sadness she couldn’t explain. She pulled out a ziplock bag and quietly fixed him a tomato sandwich. “Here,” she said. “For the walk home.”

  Crowley took the sandwich.

  “We’ll see you tomorrow morning,” Hadley said.

  Crowley nodded, his mouth full of white bread and bologna. The sisters watched him go as evening settled around the farmhouse, and it was quiet but not empty, the way all houses in the Ozarks are wont to be on lazy August evenings.

  Chapter 16

  Hadley

  THE FIRST AND ONLY TIME HADLEY SNUCK OUT OF THE house was the summer before she turned eighteen. Looking back, she wasn’t even sure why she’d done it. If she’d told her mother that Brody wanted to take her fishing in their pond at midnight, she probably would have allowed it. Their mother wasn’t the kind of mother who set curfews or had silly rules about certain hours of the night being off-limits—unless, of course, it was a school night. But this night wasn’t a school night. There was a whole week before Hadley’s senior year began, and there was just something about the thought of sneaking out to see her boyfriend that sent excited chills down her spine.

  Brody was waiting for her by the gate, fishing pole in hand. In the other hand, he held a coffee can.

  “What’s that?” Hadley asked.

  “Worms,” Brody replied, grinning. “I forgot to go by the bait shop before they closed. Just dug these up fresh.”

  “Gross,” Hadley replied, but she was smiling. “I hope you didn’t wake Amanda up. If she tells Martha I snuck out of the house, Martha will tell Mom.”

  “They were asleep,” Brody reassured her. “Besides, you’re safe when you’re with me.” He set down his fishing pole and can of worms and grabbed her around the waist.

  Hadley allowed him to kiss her, slow and deep the way he liked, and then she pulled herself away from him. She never got tired of kissing Brody, or looking at him, for that matter. She’d loved him since they were twelve years old, and she didn’t expect that to change anytime soon. “Come on,” she said. “I can only stay a couple of hours.”

  Brody took her hand and led her toward the pond. “What are we gonna do with all the fish we catch?”

  “We’ll be lucky to catch anything,” Hadley said. “And watch out for snappers. They’ve been all over the place this summer.”

  “Amanda got bit by one last week,” Brody said. “Did Martha tell you?”

  “No,” Hadley replied. “But she’s fourteen. She won’t talk to anybody unless it’s to tell on one of my sisters or to be dramatic over some boy she likes.”

  “Amanda’s the same way,” Brody said. “You know, half the time I don’t understand women at all.”

  “Just half the time?”

  Brody threw a worm at her, and Hadley had to dodge it to avoid being hit, catching her foot on a root and falling headfirst into the pond. Brody tumbled in after her, laughing and calling her name.

  “Are you all right?” he asked. “You can’t drown in this pond. It smells like cow shit.”

  Hadley splashed him, pulling herself out of the tepid water and heaving herself down on the bank. “Now I’m all wet. And dirty.”

  “Still look beautiful to me,” Brody said, sitting down beside her.

  “Can you believe we’re about to be seniors in high school?” Hadley asked, handing Brody her hook for him to bait. “It doesn’t seem like we’re old enough for that.”

  “I can’t wait to be done with school,” Brody admitted. “Dad is driving me nuts about applying for the University of Missouri. He wants me to join his old frat and everything.”

  Hadley looked over at him, his frame silhouetted in the moonlight. “Don’t you want to go there?”

  Brody shrugged. “I don’t know,” he replied. “I don’t know if I want to go to college, much less be in a fraternity and get a degree in veterinary medicine. I like animals, but I don’t want to cut on them for a living.”

  “What does your dad say about that?”

  Again, Brody shrugged. “I haven’t told him.”

  “Brody,” Hadley began, “you have to tell him.”

  “Why?” Brody asked. “It won’t make a difference.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because my dad decided I was going to follow in his footsteps before I was even born,” he replied. “If I tell him I don’t want to be a vet, it’ll crush him.”

  “But if you don’t want to be one, you’ve got to tell him,” Hadley said. “Surely he’d rather you be happy than do something you don’t want to do.”

  Brody laughed, but it wasn’t a happy laugh. It was strained. “My parents aren’t like your mom, Hadley. They don’t even believe I can be happy without doing exactly what’s been planned out for me by them.”

  “My mom wants me to go to community college for the first two years,” Hadley said. “I don’t want to, though. I really want to take a year off and work.”

  “And what did your mom say about that?”

  “She said it might be more difficult to go back to school after taking a year off, but she’d support me if that was my decision,” Hadley said.

  “See?” Brody said. “She’s going to support you no matter what. You’re lucky.”

  “But if my dad were alive, he might have a different opinion,” Hadley said. “And I’d give anything to have a dad to disagree with.”

  Brody put his arms around her. “I know you would,” he whispered.

  Hadley felt tears pricking at her eyes. And she nestled her head into Brody’s chest, breathing in his scent. He smelled like Tide detergent and chewing tobacco. “I miss him,” she said.

  “Hey,” Brody said, straightening up. “You want my dad for a little bit? I’d be happy to share.”

  Hadley smiled and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I don’t think that would work out too well.”

  “Why don’t we just take off?” he asked. “The last day of school, you know? Let’s just leave and go somewhere new. Start a new life together.”

  Hadley stared up at him. “You mean, leave Cold River completely?”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know,” Hadley replied. “I hadn’t thought about it.”

  “Well, think about it,” Brody said. “We can go anywhere. Anywhere you want to go.”

  “Does this mean . . . ?” Hadley stopped herself, afraid of what she might say.

  Brody turned his whole body so that he was facing her and cupped her chin in one of his hands. “Yes,” he said. “It means I w
ant to marry you.”

  Hadley felt all the air leave her lungs, and she thought for a second she might fall right back into the pond. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone else,” Hadley managed to say, her tears now flowing freely.

  “I’ve saved up all my money from baling hay at the Johnson farm this summer. I was planning to buy you a ring,” Brody said. “But if you can live without the ring for just a while longer, we could use that money after graduation. Maybe we could put a little more back over the next few months.”

  “I don’t care about a ring,” she said.

  “Listen, we can’t tell anyone,” Brody continued. “Nobody. Not even your sisters, okay?”

  Hadley nodded. “I won’t tell.”

  “I know,” he said. And then he kissed her, laying her back onto the soft earth beneath them, until all Hadley could think about was his mouth on hers and the way the stars shone brighter that night in the Ozarks Hills than they ever had anywhere else.

  Chapter 17

  Hadley

  HADLEY STARED OUT THE WINDOW, CUP OF COFFEE IN hand, at Brody and Crowley. It was half-past six in the morning, and they were already at the farm, unloading the lawn mower and Weed Eater and various other tools they’d need to hack through the jungle that was once the Jameses’ front lawn.

  She wondered about the last time it had been mowed. It looked like the grass had been growing since the summer before. In front of her, Brody instructed Crowley as he backed the lawn mower off the trailer. He was wearing tight-fitting jeans and a T-shirt, his arms tan and muscled beneath it. She felt a little bit like the heroine in one of those cowboy romance books she knew her aunt Bea used to read, lusting after some man working in her yard, but she couldn’t help herself. Most of the men she knew now, including her husband, wore suits every day. It might be fitting for Mark, but there was just something about a man in a pair of Wranglers that Hadley couldn’t resist.

  “Getting an eyeful, are you?” Pfeiffer observed, coming down the stairs to stand beside her. “You know, say what you want, but Brody is still just as good-looking today as he was twenty years ago.”