The Sowing Season

by Katie Powner

  George raised his hands. “Don’t worry. I won’t say anything to Hannie. I know you’re probably planning a surprise for her birthday, right? I’ll give you a discount.”

  The fact that George knew his wife’s birthday was coming up felt like salt in an already-gaping wound. He didn’t need a discount from George, and no, he wasn’t planning a surprise. He’d forgotten all about it until right this minute. His face must’ve looked perplexed.

  “You know what?” George waved a hand. “Don’t worry about the feet. When I get to that point, I’ll have you pop on over and take a look at it, and you can decide then. We’ll do it when Hannie’s at work. She’ll never know.”

  Gerrit stared dumbly. “I . . .”

  “Guess I’ll be talking to you soon.” George turned to go, then spun back around as if remembering something. “Oh, and Agatha says to tell you to take it easy with that cold you’ve got. She heard this bug that’s going around is especially hard on the elderly.”

  He strode away, and Gerrit stood as if paralyzed, incredulity roaring in his ears. Of all the—! How could he—? What was he—? Fury and shock raged through his body, alternating hot and cold. Fire and ice. Then dribbled down to his toes to form a pool of disgrace and indignation at his feet.

  Bested again.

  And how was he going to pay for the table? A month of his life, gone.

  Hannie must never know about this.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Gerrit’s eyes flew open. He sat up with a gasp. The cows. He was late. They were waiting.

  He panted as he struggled out of his recliner, grunting as his back protested. It was past four in the morning. He’d better hurry.

  His arms groped in the darkness. Why weren’t his coveralls next to the chair? He shuffled around the room, panic rising in his chest. What were these fuzzy things on his feet? He needed his boots.

  Adrenaline buzzed in his ears as reality struck. He wasn’t late. The farm was gone. All that was over.

  Hannie had bought him these slippers at the mall.

  He stumbled to the back door and flung himself out onto the deck, sucking the crisp, fresh air. The coolness sharpened his senses, and he peered down the hill at the soft glow of the milking parlor. The faint bellow of a heifer drifted through the quiet early morning, urgent and yet peaceful. A cow seeking relief. Waiting her turn at the stanchions.

  His hands gripped the deck rail as something raw and overpowering boiled up from within, burning his chest and throat as it spewed from his mouth. A strangled cry. An answering bellow.

  Tears stung his eyes. He blinked them back, ashamed, but the weight of all he’d lost forced them down his face. The farm was gone. Luke was gone. All the memories, the long hours, the backbreaking labor. The years spent trying to make his father proud. Lost in his brother’s shadow.

  And for what?

  His heart slowly returned to a normal pace as he took a deep breath, then another. Then another. He had always loved the land. Loved the smell of fresh-cut fields and the roar of a cab tractor. Loved the freedom of working outside, away from the insistent demands of a desk or a phone or a client. But somewhere along the way, the farm had become a millstone around his neck rather than a refuge.

  Maybe it was when Luke died. Or maybe . . .

  A movement caught his eye. He blinked in the darkness and squinted. “Well, look who it is.”

  He hadn’t seen the rascal in several days and had begun to believe he was rid of him. But Bernard the Terrible perched on the far end of the deck, roosting for the night. With how poorly roosters could see in the dark, he wouldn’t be going anywhere until sunrise.

  Gerrit inched closer. “Can’t sleep either, huh?”

  Bernard tilted his head to look at him with his right eye.

  “You’re not nearly so scary when you’re stuck.”

  The rooster puffed up his feathers.

  “Not that I was ever scared of you.”

  Gerrit stopped about three feet away, well out of reach, and leaned against the rail. The sky was still dark, but too alive to be called black. It looked rich and velvety, an indigo cushion spotted with stars that he was sure, if he reached out, he could press his hand into.

  “Luke believed God made that sky.” He glanced at Bernard, who bobbed his head as if urging him on. “Made everything. He used to say, ‘God doesn’t make mistakes.’” He squared his shoulders in an imitation of his brother and tried to copy his voice, but the effort was lost on Bernard.

  Gerrit’s shoulders sank back down. “Maybe that’s true. I don’t know. Maybe God doesn’t make mistakes.”

  He took one last, long look down the hill. “But I sure do.”

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-NINE

  Rae had never seen Gerrit so animated. She kept sneaking glances at him as she helped Taylor with her homework. The way he talked with Morgan, it was almost like he was excited about something.

  Taylor’s work took until the end of the session, but as soon as Rae helped her pack up and sent her on her way, she hurried over to where Gerrit and Morgan sat. Since David wasn’t able to make it to Community Hope today, all her focus was on finding out what was up with Gerrit.

  She approached him at the table and tried to act casual. “Hey, guys.”

  Morgan ignored her, but Gerrit smiled. An actual real smile. She narrowed her eyes. Something was definitely going on.

  Gerrit stood. “What are you doing for Memorial Day?”

  “We always go to visit family in Cedar Springs. Why?”

  “I was just inviting Morgan here to my house for a party, and I thought maybe you could come, too.”

  “Oh.” She eyed Morgan, who appeared to be listening while trying hard to act like he wasn’t. “A party?”

  “Evi and Noah are coming for a visit.” Gerrit’s face grew a little more serious. “My kids.”

  The plot thickened. This did not sound like a party she wanted to miss. What better opportunity to get to the bottom of Gerrit’s relationship problems? But visiting Aunt Joyce and Uncle Jerry on Memorial Day was a tradition.

  Morgan slunk from his chair and edged past her. “I gotta go.”

  “May twenty-seventh. Three o’clock.” Gerrit slapped Morgan’s shoulder as he went by. “Don’t forget.”

  Morgan didn’t answer but instead raised a hand in farewell. Rae watched him go. She couldn’t figure him out. It was like he couldn’t stand the sight of her.

  Gerrit headed for the door, too, and Rae followed. “So your kids, huh?”

  His face retained a hint of a smile, but then something in his eyes made her think of Mr. Whiskers during a thunderstorm hiding under the bed.

  “They finally agreed to come. I haven’t seen them in . . . well, in a while.”

  “That’s great!” Her enthusiasm was genuine. “Are you inviting a lot of people?”

  They reached the end of the hall and stepped outside. “No. Just us and the kids and Morgan, I guess, if you can’t come. Maybe Luisa.”

  “Who’s Luisa?”

  He flinched. Or maybe he was just squinting in the sun. Regardless, he didn’t answer her question. This was more like the Gerrit she knew.

  “Are you making a cake?”

  He hesitated. “A cake?”

  “Yeah. Every good party has a cake, doesn’t it?”

  He rubbed his chin. “I was going to grill ribs and make pasta and pie.”

  “Pie’s good, too.” She wanted to be encouraging. This could be a turning point for him. “What about decorations?”

  He reached his truck and draped an arm over the hood, staring down at his boots as if deep in thought. “No.”

  “It wouldn’t have to be anything fancy. Maybe some streamers and balloons?”

  He shook his head.

  “Well, what about flowers? Your wife works at The Daisy Chain. She could make a centerpiece or something.”

  He raised his head and gave her a fierce look.

  She
swallowed hard, her stomach sinking. “What?”

  “That’s a good idea.”

  Sheesh. Way to give a girl a heart attack.

  He opened his truck door. “Hannie would probably like that.”

  “Maybe you could even order a bouquet for your daughter.”

  He tensed and muttered, “She’d throw it in the garbage.”

  Yikes. So that’s how it was. “Well, maybe just a bouquet for Hannie, then. Women love getting flowers.”

  He appeared to think that over. “I can’t get her flowers from her own shop. It wouldn’t be a surprise.”

  “Wait, you mean she owns The Daisy Chain? I thought she just worked there.” Rae couldn’t believe it. Why did it have to be so hard to get information out of this guy? “I suppose you could get them from some other place.”

  “I couldn’t do that.” Gerrit’s lip curled like he smelled a rat. “That would be helping the competition. She might get mad.”

  Mom’s Explorer pulled into the parking space next to Gerrit’s truck, and Rae held up a finger to let her mom know she was almost ready to go. “I could help you.”

  “How?”

  “I could order them. Like, in secret.”

  “I suppose that could work.” He nodded at the Explorer. “You better go.”

  “What’s her favorite flower?”

  He slid into his truck, a shadow passing over his face. “We’ll talk about it later.”

  “If I’m going to order her—”

  The truck door slammed shut, and the engine roared to life. Rae took a step back as Gerrit put the truck in drive. Okay then.

  She hopped into the passenger side of the Explorer, and Mom gave her a questioning smile. “Do you want to drive home today? You’ve got to get those practice hours in.”

  Rae winced. Of course Mom had to bring that up. She’d been distracted by everything going on with Grandma Kate lately, but Rae knew she couldn’t keep her driving struggles a secret from Mom forever. Dad would’ve noticed her serious lack of practice by now if he hadn’t been working such long hours on a big case.

  “No, that’s okay, you’re already buckled in.”

  “Nonsense.” Mom unbuckled and opened her door. “Let’s switch.”

  Oh, great. While she’d known this day was coming, it still made her breathing shallow and strained. She slowly slid out of her seat and walked around to the driver’s side. As she settled in behind the wheel, Mom was grinning from ear to ear.

  “This is fun—you driving me for a change. I’m sorry I haven’t had time to do this with you before.”

  Rae forced a smile as she fastened her seat belt. “It’s okay.”

  “Now that Driver’s Ed. is over, we’ll have to call and schedule an appointment for you at the DMV.”

  Rae grasped the wheel with clammy hands. She had passed her second final drive attempt a few days ago, this time scoring two points above the passing mark instead of two points below. She was getting better at the whole driving thing—on the outside. But inside? She was still a mess.

  She put the car in reverse and begged her heart to calm down. If only there weren’t half a dozen kids loitering in the parking lot. She didn’t want any witnesses.

  “No David today?” Mom asked.

  Rae shrugged. She couldn’t think about the weight of Mom’s words right now. The meaning behind them. She needed to focus on driving.

  “Okay, well, I circled some Help Wanted ads in the paper for you this morning.” Mom’s voice was chipper. “Summer’s only a few weeks away. If you keep putting off applying, all the good jobs will be taken.”

  Rae eased the Explorer out of the parking space, hoping her inner panic didn’t show. “Mark said the church is planning to do a summer program for fifth through eighth graders, if they can get enough volunteers. I was thinking—”

  “You’ve already put in a ton of volunteer hours this year, sweetie. And that’s great, but it’s not going to help you reach your career goals. You need some actual work experience.”

  “But—”

  “We’ll probably want to avoid fast food, but there were a couple of openings for cleaning jobs and four or five desk jobs. One of them is even at a law firm. Wouldn’t that be perfect?”

  A law firm? The idea should excite her. What better way to impress the law school at Columbia than to have law-firm experience already under her belt? But the thought of working at a firm sat like a rock in her gut. She was only fifteen. She had her whole life to work in law.

  “I don’t know, Mom. Maybe a cleaning job would be better. Keep me active.”

  “That’s true.” Mom tapped her bottom lip with her index finger. “It would show you’re not afraid of hard work.”

  Rae drove past the loitering kids, careful not to make eye contact with any of them. “Community Hope is hard work.”

  Mom gave her a tolerant half smile. “That’s not real work, Rae. We’ve only got two more years until Columbia. You know what your father would say. We’ve got to follow The Plan. Besides, you’ll need to earn some money if you’re going to pay for car insurance.”

  Rae nodded, but words of agreement stuck in her throat. Helping kids wasn’t real work? Mom couldn’t mean that. Maybe she was only referring to the fact that it didn’t pay.

  She pondered Mom’s money statement. Her parents had agreed to buy her a car when she turned sixteen, if she paid for the insurance and kept her ranking as number one in her class. With Dad’s job, they could afford her insurance themselves, but they said they wanted to instill in Rae a sense of responsibility by having her pay for it. And it wouldn’t hurt to mention on her college application that she paid her own bills.

  Volunteer work wouldn’t pay for her car insurance. But she couldn’t worry about that right now. There was a more pressing matter at the moment.

  She pulled onto the road, trying to play it cool. Trying to drive smooth and easy so that Mom wouldn’t know how stressed out she was. If she just focused on the road, gave all her attention to her surroundings, did everything right, and kept everyone happy—

  “What are you doing?”

  Rae started and hit the brakes. Her head and Mom’s jerked forward. “I—I’m driving.”

  Mom smoothed her blouse, flustered, and pointed her thumb over her shoulder. “We live that way.”

  It was going to be a long drive home.

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY

  Hannie gave the pan of scotcheroo bars an appreciative sniff. “Are these a thank-you?”

  Gerrit nodded, though his heart wobbled a little. She had managed to convince Evi and Noah to come for Memorial Day weekend, and he was grateful. Yet his initial excitement at having the family all together was wavering. He only had ten days left to prepare. What if it was a disaster?

  He’d whipped up the peanut-butter Rice Krispie bars with chocolatey butterscotch topping after returning from Community Hope because they were fast and easy. But now he realized he couldn’t remember whether Hannie even liked butterscotch. What if she hated it? He sure did. Butterscotch was the worst.

  He should know if there was a food she hated, but he didn’t. Which reminded him of Rae’s question.

  “What’s her favorite flower?”

  Hannie loved flowers, he knew that much. She had them growing all around the house in every variety imaginable. She worked with them every day at her shop. Her car smelled like them. Her skin reminded him of them. But did she have a favorite? The thought of asking opened a cold, dark pit in his stomach.

  “I can’t wait to see them.” Hannie cut herself a square piece from the pan of scotcheroos. “They haven’t been home in ages.”

  He looked away. The Christmas after Noah left home to try a community college in Seattle was the last time he could remember all four of them being together in this house. He’d missed opening gifts Christmas morning because a cow had gone into labor. It was a difficult birth. The heifer’s first. He’d arrived home just in time for the Christmas dinner Ha
nnie had planned for noon so it wouldn’t interfere with the second milking.

  After hurrying to clean himself up, he joined them at the table but struggled to keep his mind from wandering. The heifer had been in bad shape when he’d left. What if she didn’t make it? Finances were tight. Money was scarce. Cows were money. A two-year-old heifer was worth her weight in gold if she could produce good milk.

  He’d left the house less than two hours later to check on the mother and didn’t return until everyone was asleep. The kids hadn’t been back for Christmas since.

  “I’m sorry.”

  The light in Hannie’s eyes dimmed. He could practically see the wheels turning in her mind as she chewed, see her searching for a response.

  “It’s okay.”

  He hung his head. No, it wasn’t. But he couldn’t change the past.

  “It’s not fair you never get to see your—our—kids.”

  Hannie set her bar down on the counter. “I used to go down to Everett almost every weekend to see Evi. Sometimes Noah would drive up and meet us.”

  He looked up. So that was where she would disappear to. What would they talk about together? How much had he missed?

  “We’d go to that Mexican restaurant on Washington Avenue,” Hannie continued. “You know the one with the giant sombrero hanging over the door? That’s their favorite place.”

  His heart flumped like it had a flat tire. “But you don’t go down anymore?”

  She leaned against the counter, staring past him at the window. Hesitant. Troubled. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  But he knew why. Because he was around now. She was afraid he’d tag along or felt bad about leaving him alone or something. He sighed. He’d ruined everything when he was never around and still managed to ruin everything when he was.

  Hannie wiped at the crumbs on the counter. “Evi’s been busy.”

  In that moment he loved his wife more than he’d ever loved her before. She was lying to him. Her crow’s feet confirmed it. And yet she was also giving him a gift. Whatever he’d ruined in the past, he had to make sure he didn’t ruin anything else.