by Anna Schmidt
“How much longer until we reach Milwaukee and get the bus on to Madison?”
“A couple of hours. Come on. I’m starving.”
They ate a snack of peanut butter crackers and cherry Cokes at a newsstand in Union Station that also featured a lunch counter. They talked about the hearings and tried to find clues in the reactions of the congressmen that might offer hints to what would happen next.
“It will be what it will be,” Theo said as they reboarded the train. “Let’s talk about something else besides the war and the folks at the fort.”
“Okay,” she readily agreed, but she could not seem to come up with any other topic of conversation. “So, what should we talk about?”
“Well, tomorrow is Sunday, and my folks will be attending meeting for worship. I told them you were a Friend but I did not mention that you—”
“Of course I will go to the meeting with you and your parents, Theo. It would be rude not to go. I am their guest.”
“Thank you.” His smile reminded her of the first time they had talked and how even then she had been drawn into his eyes as if she were falling into a pool of cool water. He cupped her cheek with his palm. “I mean it. Thank you for everything—for agreeing to come to the farm, for—”
“I wanted to come, Theo. I like your parents, and I’m looking forward to meeting your brother and his family.”
Theo groaned.
“What? I thought you and your brother were close.”
“We are. It’s his wife, Jenny, I’m worried about. She’s a bigger matchmaker than Mom is—the woman has been on a mission to get me married off ever since she and Matthew got married. Don’t get me wrong—there is not a more caring, sweet woman in the world—but when she makes up her mind that something needs doing …”
“Hey, stop worrying. It’s only for a few days, and then we’ll be on our way back to Oswego. You can count on me not to go running into the cornfields because your mother and sister-in-law have your best interests at heart.”
He grinned and took hold of her hand. “Who told you there are cornfields?”
She nodded toward the window. They had left the city behind, and outside the window a moving picture of barns, farmhouses, and fields rushed past. It was beautiful countryside, but Suzanne thought of what many out-of-towners said about New York City: It’s a nice place to visit, but you wouldn’t want to live there.
As she looked out at the cows grazing in the fields, she knew that the saying absolutely applied to her feelings about living in Wisconsin. She might have grown up in a small town, but these days she was a city girl who was dangerously close to admitting that she was in love with the country boy next to her. She sure hoped he won that election.
CHAPTER 18
Theo’s parents met them at the bus station in Madison. Theo did not miss the way his mother greeted Suzanne as if she were already a member of the family. She even insisted that they ride in the backseat together “so we can catch up.”
It was Saturday, and they were to take a train back after the parade on Wednesday. Clearly his mom planned to make as much progress as possible during that time toward getting Suzanne and him together on a more permanent basis. He just hoped Suzanne was up for this overdose of family.
“Jim Sawyer called,” his dad said, clenching his unlit pipe between his teeth as he drove. “He wants to see you as soon as possible. I told him to come on by the house tonight.”
“Dad, we just got here, and—”
“Get it out of the way, Son, and then you and Suzie can enjoy your time here. That is, if your mom and sister-in-law don’t take over.” He winked at Theo.
Suzie. He’d never heard anyone call her anything but Suzanne. She had once told him that her editor liked to shorten her given name, but she suspected that was more because he was a man of few words and always in a hurry.
Theo could not imagine calling her Suzie. It just didn’t fit the woman he had come to know—and love. She was far too serious and intense to be a Suzie. He wondered if she would object and made a mental note to ask her about her preference. If she did object, he would have to set his parents straight.
“Matthew and Jenny and the children are coming over for supper,” he heard his mother explaining. “You and Jenny are going to get on like sisters—I just know it.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting them,” Suzanne replied.
“And Jim Sawyer—he’s the one who talked Theo into running for Congress—he’s stopping by later. I told him to bring Ethel, his wife, and come for dessert. I made a peach cobbler, and Jenny is churning up some vanilla ice cream.”
“You make your own ice cream?” Theo heard Suzanne’s voice crack slightly.
“Mom, you’re scaring her.”
“No, not at all,” Suzanne protested. “It’s just that … ice cream from scratch?”
“Well, not every time we eat ice cream, but this is a special occasion and …” Now it was his mom who sounded unsure of herself.
“Trust me, Suzie,” Theo’s dad said, “you have never had ice cream like this. It’ll put some meat on you.”
“Dad’s right,” Theo said. “One scoop of that stuff on top of Mom’s cobbler and you won’t need to eat for a week.”
“Sounds like we should maybe start with dessert,” Suzanne said. Theo’s parents both chuckled, and he saw his mom squeeze Suzanne’s hand. They arrived at the farmhouse minutes later, and Suzanne scrambled from the car and spun slowly around, taking it all in. “Oh Theo, it is like a picture postcard—pure Americana.”
If he could have risked taking her in his arms in that moment without his mother fainting from sheer joy, he would have. Instead he bent and pulled a piece of grass and stuck it in his mouth. “Aw, shucks, miss, that’s just downright kind of you.”
She giggled and took a step toward him, and he instinctively knew that she had been about to hook her arms around his neck as she sometimes did—a gesture that almost always led to them kissing.
His dad cleared his throat as he picked up their suitcases. “Show her around the place, Theo. I’ll just set these at the foot of the stairs.”
“But,” his mom started to protest.
“Come along, Ellie. Give these two some time to get settled in.”
Hand in hand, Theo and Suzanne walked around the farm. He pointed out the outbuildings and explained the purpose of each then described the different crops coming up in the fields. As they stood by a fence and watched the cows lumber across the pasture toward the barn, he finally stopped talking.
“So peaceful,” she murmured after a while.
“Yeah. I’ve always loved this part of the day here.”
“Why this time specifically?”
“I don’t really know. The day is coming to a close, and most likely nothing catastrophic has happened. It’s almost time to sit down to supper and hear everybody talk about their day. In winter once the cows are in and milked and you’re walking back to the house, there’s this glow from the lamps—a kind of welcome and warmth that makes the dark and cold bearable. And the promise of what’s waiting inside—a fire, maybe a second piece of pie and a glass of milk …”
She rested her head against his chest as he wrapped his arm around her. “You do love it here, don’t you?”
“I do. It’s home. It always will be.”
She didn’t say anything for a long moment. “So how are you going to feel about living in a city like Washington? I mean you can always come back for holidays and when Congress isn’t in session, but—”
He tightened his hold on her. “Ah, but living in Washington will have other benefits like getting to see you every day.” He kissed her temple. “Now, how about I show you how to milk a cow?”
“How about you go milk Bessie or Bossy or whatever their names are, and I’ll go see what I can do to help your mom get dinner—supper—on the table?”
“Fine, but don’t think you can spend all this time here and never milk a cow—and by the way, we hav
e classy names for our animals. That—for example—is Ophelia.”
Suzanne laughed and started walking back to the house, and Theo could not help but imagine her making that walk on a regular basis.
Norman Rockwell could have certainly used the scene around the Bridgewaters’ dinner table as one of his covers for the Saturday Evening Post. It might be titled “This is why we fought!” Certainly the setting outside the warm and comfortable home had taken her breath away with its cream-colored stone accented by forest-green shutters and a porch lined with rocking chairs. This all set against a backdrop of a vibrant red barn, fields of green and gold crops, and a sky that defined the word azure. To think such scenes actually existed beyond some Hollywood set!
But it was the gathering of family and friends around a huge oak pedestal table in a dining room that was larger than her Washington apartment, savoring the unique combination of peach cobbler straight from the oven with a scoop of sweet, creamy, cold vanilla ice cream melting over the crust and fruit that touched her heart.
Matthew and Jenny’s two toddlers had squealed with delight when Jim Sawyer and his wife arrived, bringing their teenaged daughter, Dora, with them.
“Dora often babysits for the children,” Ellie explained. “They adore her, and the feeling is mutual so now we adults can visit in peace.” She handed Suzanne a tray stacked with cups and saucers then wrapped her hand in the skirt of her apron to pick up a pot of coffee as she led the way back to the dining room.
They talked about neighbors and friends who had been asking about Theo, and that led to Theo and Suzanne bringing them up to date on what was happening at the shelter.
“Things are a mess pretty much everywhere since Roosevelt died,” Matthew commented. “Nobody knows what to expect from this Truman.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I think the man is just playing it close to the vest until he’s had time to catch up,” Jim Sawyer said.
“No politics at mealtime,” his wife murmured as she placed her hand on his arm. “Suzanne, where are you from originally?”
She had never liked being the center of attention, even in circumstances like this where she had no doubt that everyone seated around the table seemed intent on liking her. “I … uh … grew up in a small town in Virginia,” she said.
“Near Washington?” Paul asked.
“Dad, Virginia is a big state. Suzanne grew up in the mountains.”
“Blue Ridge?” Sawyer guessed.
“Appa-latch-chian,” Suzanne said softly—aware that in this part of the country it was pronounced as lay rather than latch.
“I thought those mountains were in New York,” Jenny said.
“The range forms the dividing line between the Eastern Seaboard and the Midwest and includes the Blue Ridge among others. In various ways it runs all the way from Newfoundland into Alabama.” She hoped she didn’t sound argumentative. The truth was that she was exhausted and there were so many people—strangers to her. She wished that she and Theo could have had a quiet dinner with just his parents—at least on this first night of the visit. She realized that she so wanted to make a good impression.
“Suzanne, would you like more coffee?” Theo’s mother seemed to know that she was uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken. “I promise you,” she added, “that we will not grill you any more tonight.”
“Nope,” Theo’s dad said with a wink, “we’ll set up the spotlight and continue this whole business out in the barn tomorrow.”
Suzanne relaxed.
“Why don’t you two go sit on the porch and catch your breath,” Ellie suggested. “Jenny and Ethel and I can handle the clearing up, and I know these men want to talk farm business.”
“Please let me help as well,” Suzanne offered.
“Not a chance,” Theo said. “Come with me. I want to show you something.” He took hold of her hand and tugged her toward the back door.
“We need to talk, Theo,” Jim Sawyer called out, although he was still seated at the table drinking his third cup of coffee.
“Tomorrow,” Theo called back.
“Tonight,” Sawyer shouted.
Theo let the banging of the screen door serve as his answer as he led Suzanne across the yard to an outbuilding he had skipped on their earlier tour.
“You should talk to him,” Suzanne said. “He’s only trying to make sure that you’re ready.”
“I know. But the parade isn’t until Wednesday, and it’s only Saturday. We’ve got time.” He pulled open the door of the building and pulled a string to illuminate the interior.
“Obviously there’s a car under there,” Suzanne said, pointing to the tan canvas covering.
“Not just any car. A 1935 Plymouth convertible.” He swept away the covering like a magician. “Ta da!”
“I love it,” Suzanne said as she ran her finger lightly—reverently—over the ice-blue hood. “Does it run?”
“It will by the time we ride in the parade in it on Wednesday.” He rolled up his shirtsleeves and then opened the hood. “Hand me that wrench over there.” He pointed to a workbench where hand tools were lined up precisely.
“Where did you get this car?”
“I bought it when I was a senior in high school. Do you like it?”
“I love it.”
He grinned. “I was hoping you might.”
“But I can’t ride in the parade with you, Theo.”
“Why not?”
“How would that look?”
“Like I’m one lucky guy?”
“Be serious. You’re in the parade because you are a candidate for political office. If I was there, people would wonder who I was.”
“And?”
“And you don’t want that. And trust me. Mr. Sawyer definitely doesn’t want that. He wants the focus to be squarely on you.”
She could see by the way the muscles in his forearms tensed that he didn’t like being told what he could and could not do. He ducked under the hood and continued working on fine-tuning the engine. “If I can get Jim to agree, will you ride with me then?”
“He’ll never agree.”
Theo stood up and turned to face her. “But if he does?”
“Theo, if we were engaged or married, then maybe but—”
“That can be arranged,” he said as he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. She tried to read his expression in the dim glow of the single lightbulb. He had to be kidding around—didn’t he?
“Okay, it’s been a long, exhausting day and you are clearly starting to show the effects.” She kissed his cheek. “I’m going to bed, and you should have that meeting with Mr. Sawyer. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He moved to the doorway, and she knew he was watching as she started across the yard and up to the house. “Hey, Suzanne?”
She hesitated but did not turn around. “Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“Good to know,” she said and continued on her way. But she was smiling, and she felt light—as if she could float back to the farmhouse.
After she’d thanked Theo’s parents and said her good-nights, she couldn’t help but relive that moment in the yard and Theo’s words. He hadn’t said, “I think I love you.” True to form, he had entertained no doubt at all.
But once she had changed into her nightgown and turned out the lights, she couldn’t help but consider the doubts that were never far from her mind whenever her life seemed to finally be going in a positive direction. Loving Theo carried with it a host of complications. At the top of the list was what would happen if he didn’t win a seat in Congress? That led to questions about whether or not he would understand her need to continue to pursue her career as a journalist or at least as a writer.
The farm was certainly idyllic, but she was not like Theo’s mother. She could never be content with the life that Ellie Bridgewater so obviously loved. No, overall it would be best if Suzanne did not allow her emotions to overpower her common sense.
A tap at
the door made her sit up, and she reached to turn on the bedside lamp. Pulling her covers to her chin she said, “Come in,” and was relieved to see Ellie peeking around the door.
“Oh, Suzanne, forgive me. I thought you might be reading. I know whenever Paul and I travel I have such a hard time getting to sleep, especially that first night.”
“Come in. I was just lying here, thinking.”
Ellie sat on the side of the bed and pulled an envelope from the pocket of her housedress. “This letter from our daughter Elizabeth arrived a few days ago. As you will see, she had enclosed a letter for Liesl and another for Ilse. Will you see that they receive them?”
“Of course, but why not give them to Theo?”
“I was going to do that, but I overheard Paul and Theo and Jim talking, and it seems likely that Theo will not be returning to Oswego with you.”
“Why not?’
“Jim believes that it’s important for Theo to spend the time from now until the election here.”
Suzanne knew this was necessary, but the idea of returning to Oswego alone … of Theo being half a country away …
Ellie patted her hand. “I know it’s hard, dear, but in the long run it is for the best, don’t you think?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Now then, I had one more thing I wanted to tell you—our Friends group takes turns meeting in each other’s houses, and I’m afraid that I scheduled the meeting for worship to be here tomorrow. Ilse had once mentioned that you were raised Quaker but these days you were not … that is …”
“It has been some time since I attended a meeting for worship, Mrs. Bridgewater. Work got in the way. Life got in the way. But lately watching how religion has sustained so many of the residents at the fort, I’ve had to ask myself whether or not I made a mistake when I turned away. If it’s all right with you, I would very much like to take part in tomorrow’s meeting.”
Ellie smiled. “You will be most welcome, and we will all hold you in the Light.” She stood up and glanced around the room, stopping to straighten the shade on the bedside lamp. “Do you have everything you need?”
