Jane looked down, turning over first one hand and then the other, confused at the question. Duh! She probably didn’t know how to write—how rude of me. “Um, when you pick up a spoon or fork to eat with, which hand do you use?”
Jane reached down and picked up a twig with her left hand, and held it like a spoon. She set it back down and picked it up with her right hand. “It feels better with this hand. I know I throw with the left hand,” she grinned in recollection of her hidden assaults with rotten eggs when she was younger.
“Well, then there’s a good chance you and Benji will have left-handed children. That’s another recessive gene that kind of pops up, but it’s not as predictable as red hair. And, they’ll probably have brown eyes, but I think he’ll like that. You have beautiful, expressive eyes.”
Jane had never felt better. Benji wasn’t here—he was still visiting with other family members—but the women were so kind. “So, where’s their father?” Jane asked me, trying to, and succeeding at, overcoming her shyness.
“He’s in town, but he should be back any time now. He’s Jody’s son and Sarah’s stepson, but we don’t use that four letter word step around here.” I saw the confused look on her face when I said ‘four letter word.’ “You see, we’re all related, by blood, choice, or marriage around here. And, you will be, too. It’s just easier to say kin. I mean, Sarah’s my sister, sort of, and Wallace is Jody’s son, but his biological mother died when he was one week old. Maybe later on, my husband, Wallace, will bring his,” I whispered the word, “step,” then continued, “father, Julian, here. He reared Wallace. Now that my husband’s a father too, Julian and Jody are both considered the grandfathers to our children; no distinction is needed or desired as to whose blood goes through whose body.”
“So, Sarah is your sister, sort of, and Leah is your daughter, and those are your babies, and Jenny is adopted, and Benji is your…” she asked by not finishing the sentence.
“He’s my nephew which means that you’ll be my niece. And that little blond bullet over there, bending his ear, is his cousin, your cousin. I’ll bet you never thought you’d have a blond cousin, did you?” I laughed.
“I never thought I’d ever have any cousin, or a husband,” she said, then started to waver, even though she was seated.
“Here, drink more water, and hand me that baby. You need to lie down.”
“Oh, I’m fine,” Jane replied, although she did pass Judah to me and leaned back against the tree.
“Drink,” I said as I gave her my cup. Her eyes flashed fear at taking a drink from my vessel. “What, do you think I have cooties?” I asked. “The only germs I have are good germs, here,” I insisted.
Jane took a long drink then handed back the empty cup. “I still think I’m dreaming, but I don’t want to wake up. I like this,” she moved her left hand around to indicate everything around her, “and these nice people. Is it always like this?”
“Uh, no, sometimes it gets scary,” I said as I recalled the incident the year before with Captain Asshole MacLeod, knives, threats, and assorted mayhem and bullets. “We’ve been through some very rough and dangerous times, and I agree that this, my dear, is as good as it gets. Good food, good company, a healthy family, nice weather…gee, pinch me; I think I’m dreaming, too,” I said with a laugh.
Just then, James, Benji, and Jody walked up to join the ladies and babies. “Are ye sure they’re my uncles?” Benji asked as he bent over to pick up Raymond. “They look a wee small? And how old are ye now, Grandpa? Ye look to be about my age. Grannie, yer lookin’ mighty fine for an elderly lady.”
“My wife, yer Grannie, is not an elderly lady, she’s, she’s…” Jody fumbled for words that didn’t sound harsh to describe his mate. He certainly wasn’t going to explain in mixed company that their dosing a year earlier with the Fountain of Youth tonic had not only rewound their biological clocks, it had brought Sarah out of menopause, acted as a fertility drug, and allowed her to have a perfect pregnancy and deliver twins at just over sixty years of chronological age.
“How about an older woman?” I suggested. “Being older is fine, but being elderly sounds gray and wrinkled. And Sarah, you are definitely not wrinkled, and the gray just highlights your brown hair. Although,” I said as I reached over and moved the tips of my fingers through the curls around her ears, “I don’t see much for gray hairs.”
Sarah looked a little embarrassed at the revelation in front of her grandson that her gray hairs had disappeared. “It must be the henna and egg wash I used last time I shampooed my hair. I must have used too much henna.”
“Um, yeah,” I fumbled, “that must be what it is. And I hear that the henna won’t wash out, that you’ll have to wait for it to grow out. I guess you’re stuck with it for a while.”
I looked over and saw the men were in different states of eye rolling. Jody was relieved that the topic was over, James was enchanted with his mother-in-law’s babbling and quick recovery, and Benji just wanted to talk about something other than women’s hair care.
“Excuse me; I think I’m needed, um, somewhere else, I mean, elsewhere.” I nodded to each of the men, picked up my skirts and walked as fast as I could without running to get away from there. Next time I’d shut up and just nod. At least if I dipped my head, my feet wouldn’t find their way into my mouth!
27 Back Home with Grandpa
I hid my embarrassment in the kitchen, which was a good place for me to be: dinner wasn’t going to cook itself. Leah was tending to Bibby, Jenny was watching her little brothers and sister, and Jody was in charge of his young sons. Sarah had come inside to clean up her tools or whatever after performing the minor surgery, and Benji and Janie were taking care of each other. Everyone was basking in the joy of family and peace. All that was needed was a big dinner to make it a perfect day. That was going to be my job.
James had followed me inside, carrying the three plucked and cleaned chickens for our supper. “Well, since there are enough caregivers out there for all the babies and wounded, I figured I’d volunteer for KP duty. Do you need any potatoes peeled, corn husked, ale brewed?” he joked.
“Ale,” I said, “I probably didn’t bring in enough, but how about some snacks to go with it? Got any ideas?”
“I’m on it, and I’ll bring back a little something special, too,” he said, then headed out the door.
I grabbed three good-sized onions and a couple of garlic bulbs. I trimmed and peeled, then stuffed them into the heavily buttered and salted birds. I had three clay pots, one moderately chipped, but still serviceable, so employed them all. I scrubbed a dozen potatoes and threw them in a basket. I had baked bread the day before and held back a couple of loaves from the men, planning to make French toast. Well, it looked like we wouldn’t be having that for tomorrow’s brunch—sourdough pancakes would be fine—but I had the bread for dinner. I could glaze a couple dozen carrots in Jenny’s maple syrup and bring out a rum-soaked fruitcake for dessert. I couldn’t have accomplished a finer Thanksgiving dinner if I had worked on it all day.
Jenny popped up at my side at just the right time. Sometimes I think she has the sight, too. She and Leah both seem to anticipate my needs, even before I have them. “Daddy already has the fire going outside,” she informed me, then asked, “Can I poke the potatoes into the ashes, huh? I know I was supposed to clean them out today, but I thought we still might need them for baking, so I left them for just one more day. But, I promise I’ll clean them out tomorrow, okay?”
“Yes, you may set the potatoes in, and yes, tomorrow will be fine, but let’s put the clay pots in first. And leave room for the Dutch oven. I used some of your maple syrup for glazed carrots. It’s a good thing we can cook outside. I don’t think I could fit this many pots and potatoes in the hearth.”
Jenny helped me ferry the food to the cook fire while the rest of the family visited. I shrugged off their offers of help. I had all I needed with Jenny, and then I let her go, too.
She sat next to he
r Grannie, both of them looking like spectators at a ping pong match, watching Benji speak, and then their eyes bouncing back to observe Jody’s reply.
It was uncanny how much those two men resembled each other. It’s a good thing Benji’s hair was short and his clothes were different, or we wouldn’t be able to tell them apart from a distance. Benji was at least four inches taller than his grandfather, but proportionately, they were built the same, and even moved the same. Both of them had the same regal bearing and walked with long, confident strides, as if they knew where they were going, and you’d be wise to follow them. Yup, they were both natural leaders.
I went back inside one more time to clean up my mess and heard James pull up with the promised snacks. He came in the doorway with a couple of crocheted sacks of what looked like small potatoes set on top of a basket filled with bottles of ale. “Will these do?”
“What do you have there?” I asked as I helped him unload. I opened the sack and grinned. “Salted peanuts? Salted in the shell peanuts and cold brewskies? I’d better hide one of the bags or everyone will fill up on these and won’t have room for dinner.”
James set a couple of linen dishcloths on top of the bottles then used the ewer to douse them with water. “These were already chilled, but this will help keep them that way. I haven’t quite got the refrigerator to the point where it can freeze water, but I’m working on it. I really miss having ice cream, especially on a day like today.”
“What d’ya mean?” I drawled, “We have ice cream here in the 18th century.” James gave me the ‘what you talkin’ about, Willis?’ look, and I continued. “But, only in the winter.” We both laughed at that one. “Ice cream in the summer, though,” I sighed longingly as I took out a bottle of ale for him, then grabbed one for myself. I saluted him with the brew, said, “Cheers,” and then chugged down almost half the bottle at once. “Yes, ice cream would be nice, but having a cold beer is good, too. Although, I think we’re going to have to work on a recipe for root beer or sarsaparilla for the young ones. This isn’t fair to them.”
“I already beat you to it,” James said. He moved aside a couple of bottles. There were three half pint bottles sealed with the same little latch top caps. “I put some root beer in here for Jenny. Um, I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t bring enough for the wee three. I thought they were too young for soda.”
“You’re right there, although I might take out one of these and mix it half and half with milk for a treat for them. I just remembered doing that when I was young.” I shook my head and explained, “I just flashed another memory: a poor man’s root beer float. Hmm, another unrequested, but friendly memory pops back in.”
“Does it bother you,” James asked gently, “not remembering?”
“Actually, no, it doesn’t. I have such a good life now, and what had to be the best part of my past life, Leah, is here. I hate to say that you can’t miss what you can’t remember, but it’s true. I didn’t miss Leah until she wound up as my nurse at the hospital last year and I realized that she was, had to be, my daughter. I didn’t miss you because, even though I had found that business card of yours in my backpack, I didn’t remember who you were. Hell, I didn’t even know that I knew you.”
“Well, we had only met briefly that one time. You had a whole lifetime—hers at least—with her, and less than an hour with me.”
James gave me a slight grin of discomfort, letting me know that he wanted to change the awkward subject. “So, now that Benji’s here to help with the harvesting and everything else, it looks like I might be able to spend more time with my, ahem, inventions.”
I looked down my nose at James and shook my head in admonishment. “Okay, okay,” he clarified, “I’ll be able to spend more time on my re-creations. Is that better?”
“Yes, my number one son-in-law. Let’s see, the chickens and potatoes are baking, carrots are glazing, I think I’ve scrounged enough plates and bowls for everyone, and gee, we’re set.” I stuck my head out the door and called to my family outside, “Why don’t you bring it inside? I want to hear the latest gossip, too. And I think those babies need a nap out of the weather.”
I set out the peanuts and poured more water over the towels covering the bottles. It wasn’t as good as an electric refrigerator, but evaporative cooling was all we had at our place. Sarah and I already envied the solar hot water heater and ceiling fans James had put in their house, and were eager for him to build them for our homes, too.
The men, women, children, and babies all filed through the door, bits of their stories still floating in the air. “And then I found out I had to wait one more year!” Benji declared.
I gave Benji a bottle of ale and let him continue. He toasted us with the homebrew, took a long draught, and set it down on the kitchen table. I wasn’t sure, but I think his revelations about his challenges getting back home were making him feel like a part of the family again, and not just a visitor. His whole demeanor had brightened with his story telling. I set down a bowl of the peanuts for him to munch on while he continued his soliloquy, and we waited for our dinner to finish baking.
“I took on all types of jobs to keep me fed and sometimes housed. Ye see, I can operate pretty much anythin’ that has wheels, wings, or tracks,” Benji boasted. “Although, when it comes to flyin’ those Super Cubs, I have to take out the front seat. They arena made for anyone over five foot seven, or so it seems. Bein’ a foot over height made fer cramped quarters even with the front seat removed. And of course, I couldna take anythin’ other than my lunch with me because I was right close to maximum load with my clothes on. And I sure wasna gonna fly naked!” Benji paused then amended his statement. “I wouldna minded flyin’ without my clothes, it’s jest that I wouldna thought it proper to leave the plane without them.”
“Ye flew a cub, a super cub? What kind of cubs fly, bear cubs?” Jody asked in total sincerity.
“No, no, it’s jest a name they gave to a wee bit of an airplane that can take off and land in short areas. Its verra good fer sites with lots of trees or next to creeks. I’ve landed and taken off from little sand bars no longer than, than from here to the barn.” Benji saw the confusion on his grandfather’s face. “I’ll tell ye what; I’ll build ye a little model out o’ pieces of scrap wood. It’s much easier to see how one of these things flies than to explain drag and lift and air pressure coefficients.”
I watched Jane as Benji spoke of modern technologies. She didn’t seem shocked which surprised me. Then I remembered what she had said. He talked to her about planes, trains, and automobiles when he didn’t know she could understand English.
It was a good thing Jenny had fallen asleep with her siblings. She knew about her brother James and his inventions. He had all sorts of ideas and incorporated several of them in his modernistic home. His fancy venting kept their home relatively cool in the summer, and he had even fashioned a solar water heater. But, it was his story of his trip to America that could have been trouble. He had covered his slip of the tongue about his nine hour ‘flight’ from England by saying it was a dream; that he had dreamt he could fly over the water to America in a coach that sailed through the air rather than in a ship that took a month or more to cross the sea. She had accepted it as a good idea, and incorporated it into some of her tales she used to entertain Judah, Leo, and Wren.
Well, at least I thought Jenny was asleep. She walked up quietly beside Benji as he was speaking about his days building roads with Caterpillars. “They’re really called Caterpillars, but we always referred to them as Cats. And, we who ran them were called Cat skinners,” he said.
“Eww, that’s awful,” Jenny said, suddenly making herself known to Benji the entertainer. “You didn’t really skin a cat, did you?”
“No, no,” he explained, then thought fast, picking her up and setting her on his lap to buy more time to fabricate a cover story. “Ye see, we had tools—great big, huge tools—that we used to build roads. We called them Cats. And when a man, or woman, used the
big tools, they were called Cat skinners. No animals were hurt or killed in the making of the roads using Caterpillar equipment,” Benji added in a monotone as a comedic disclaimer. Of course, only James, Leah, and I laughed at his mockery of the movie industry, but we howled.
“Uh, oh,” I said as I realized we had awaken the two youngest red heads. “I’m sorry,” I apologized to Sarah. She was snuggled into Jody and nearly asleep. Or so I thought. I realized that she was actually in a deep sleep when she snorted then nodded, a sweet smile crossing her face. I may have inadvertently awakened the babies, but she could use a bit more rest, at least enough so she could finish her pleasant dream.
“Here, let me,” Benji offered. “Jenny, do ye want to go with me while my uncles show me some more of the property?”
Jenny sat up straight—she was still on his lap—and nodded briskly. “I want to show you something special,” she said in a voice so soft that only he could hear, or so she hoped. It was still a secret.
Benji and I looked at Jane. I could see that she was still in pain. Before he could ask her if she wanted to go—and I knew she probably wanted to go—I ran interference. “Janie, I think you might want to stay here and rest a bit before supper. You can take a nap in the surgery or lie down over here,” I said, nodding to the cramped little corner where Jenny had been lying with the still slumbering Pomeroy-Hart toddlers.
“The surgery will be fine. Thank you,” she said with her mouth, her eyes adding, ‘thank you very much; I’m beat!’
Jody gently laid Sarah’s head down, allowing her to finish her nap on the floor. “I think I’ll jest go out to the garden and check on the traps I set. That raccoon is smarter than I am at getting out of one.”
The Great Big Fairy (The Fairies Saga Book 4) Page 24
