by Donna Ball
She looked up at him. “Now I’d like to make a toast.” She raised her glass. “To the only man,” she said, and she met his eyes steadily, “I would ever leave Ladybug Farm for.”
He smiled at her and cupped his hand gently around her neck. “My darling girl,” he said, “don’t you know by now that I’m the one man who would never ask you to?”
She drew in a breath and closed her eyes and sank into his embrace. For the longest time they simply stood there, holding each other, her head against the beat of his heart, his face against her hair, swaying together softly to the rhythm of a music only they could hear. Then Lindsay stepped away, letting her hand slide down his arm until her fingers entwined with his.
“Why don’t you light the fire?” she suggested huskily. “Let’s stay a while.”
Throughout the night, the fairy lights of the little folly in the woods didn’t dim, and the soft light of morning found the two lovers still wrapped in each other’s arms.
~*~
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Graduation Day
The weeks that followed were filled with a frenetic celebratory energy: baccalaureate dinners and dress rehearsals; good-bye parties and final exams; inspirational speeches and sailing mortarboards and proud tears and heartfelt hugs. Lori sold her textbooks and packed up her winter clothes. Noah signed yearbooks and was voted “most fun to be around” by his classmates. He remained stubbornly secretive about his college choice, and Lindsay grew more anxious every day.
“It’s not like it’s an open-ended invitation,” she said, worrying over coffee on the morning of his graduation. “These places have a deadline for acceptance. And I have to make arrangements.”
“Did you tell him that?” Cici asked practically.
“You bet I did. I’m tired of tiptoeing around the subject. He said he had it under control.”
“Well, we know for sure it’s not seminary,” Bridget said with a small sigh. “Too bad. That would’ve been interesting.”
“I think it’s UVA,” said Cici. She chose a strawberry from the bowl on the table and popped it in her mouth. “He’s probably already sent in his acceptance letter and he’s waiting to surprise you. Probably tonight at dinner, after graduation.”
Lindsay frowned a little, helping herself to a strawberry. “Why do you think that?”
“It makes sense,” Bridget answered for Cici. “That’s the only decision that wouldn’t cause any drama—he would be close to home, the tuition is low, they have a good arts program—so he feels safe keeping it a surprise.”
“Well, maybe.” Lindsay took another strawberry, looking unconvinced. “I would’ve felt a lot better if he let me be a part of the decision, though. It doesn’t feel fair somehow.”
Ida Mae snatched the bowl of strawberries away. “I’m saving these for a shortcake.”
“It’s Noah’s favorite,” Bridget reminded her. “We thought we’d have all his favorites for his graduation dinner. He’s got a lot to celebrate.”
Cici said to Lindsay. “Anyway, I thought you were on a diet. No carbs?”
“Oh, that was last week. This week it’s the all fruit diet. I like it a lot better. And …” She cheered considerably. “I can eat the filling out of the shortcake.”
The sound of rattling wheels reached them through the open window and Lindsay sprang to her feet, her eyes alight with excitement. “Oh good!”
“What in the world?” Bridget and Cici got up to follow Lindsay to the back door.
“I didn’t want to say anything in case it didn’t come through, but Farley found this ’92 Mustang for $500, and Dominic said he thought he could get it running …”
“Is there anything that man can’t do?” inquired Cici innocently, and she and Bridget shared a grin.
Lindsay ignored them. “I was hoping to surprise Noah for graduation and the timing is perfect. I was afraid they wouldn’t get it finished by today. Where is Noah, anyway?”
“If you all ain’t a sight to be seen, running out the door in your underwear,” Ida Mae scolded as they all rushed out onto the porch, slippers scuffing and bathrobes billowing. “Get back in here and put on some clothes!”
Bridget was about to defend their attire, which consisted mostly of perfectly acceptable capri pajamas and below-the-knee nightgowns, when the vehicle they’d been expecting rounded the corner of the house. It was neither a’92 Mustang nor a car trailer carrying a ’92 Mustang. It was a white pickup truck with lettering on the side, towing what appeared to be an empty horse trailer. It did not stop at the back steps, but continued bouncing around the rutted drive toward the barn.
“Wait,” said Bridget in confusion. “When you said ‘mustang,’ you meant car, right?”
Cici squinted after the vehicle. “Did that say ‘Department of Natural Resources’ on the truck?”
And Lindsay said, “They must be in the wrong place.”
That was when they saw Noah coming out of the barn, leading Bambi with a rope around his neck. A man got out of the truck and shook Noah’s hand.
Lindsay murmured, “What in the world?”
She caught the belt of her open bathrobe, fastened it securely, and started off across the yard at a determined pace. Bridget and Cici followed.
By the time they reached the barn, the back of the trailer was open and the man was locking down a ramp. Noah, with a bunch of garden carrots in his hand, led Bambi toward the ramp.
“Hey!” Lindsay cried, and broke into a run. “Hey, what are you doing?”
The man turned to Lindsay and touched the wide brim of his hat. “Good morning, ma’am. I’m Roger Killian from the DNR, wildlife relocation. I’m here to take care of your deer.”
Bridget, whose shorter legs had trouble keeping up with the other two, gasped, “What?”
Lindsay grabbed for the rope that Noah was now transferring to the officer. “I’ll take care of my deer, thank you very much! Noah, what is this all about?”
Noah’s jaw had a firm, stubborn set to it and he stepped between Lindsay and the deer. Bambi reached around Noah’s arm and started nibbling the carrots. His rack caught Noah’s shirt, jostling him off-balance a little. “He’s too old and too big to be hanging out around here. I’m sending him off.”
“You’re what?”
Bridget said, “Noah, it’s okay about the grape vines. We’re getting a fence—”
“You don’t have to. A wild deer’s got no place on a farm.” He handed the rope to the officer.
“He’s not a wild deer!” Lindsay cried. “He’s a pet. Noah, what are you thinking?”
Cici turned to the officer. “We have a license to keep him. I can go find it if you want me to …”
The man gave a small shake of his head. “Ma’am, all I know is I got a call about removing domesticated wildlife from this property, and that’s what I’m bound to do.”
“You can’t do that,” Lindsay said. “He’s my deer! I found him as a fawn; he followed me home—”
“And I raised him, didn’t I?” Noah said fiercely. “I fed him and made sure he was in the barn at night and kept him out of the gardens all these years, didn’t I? Well, who do you think is going to do that now? I’m not going to be here anymore, and you all have got enough to do.” He drew a breath, his jaw knotting again, his gaze fixed deliberately over her shoulder. “This is the way it’s got to be.”
A silence fell that was thick and painful, choking with words unspoken. The officer took the carrots from Noah and led Bambi up the ramp into the hay-lined trailer. The sound of his hooves on the metal echoed. Bridget clutched Cici’s arm. Lindsay looked at Noah helplessly.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” she said. “You’re just going to send him away?”
“Deer are territorial,” he said stiffly. “If I turn him loose in the woods, he’ll just come back.”
“But—he’s a pet! All he knows is how to live with people. He can’t take care of himself in the woods. He’ll be shot!”
Noah flinched. “They’re going to try to get him in a wildlife park. He’ll be fine.” He looked much less sure than he sounded.
Lindsay looked from Cici to Bridget in desperation, and with their eyes they ached for her, and begged her to be strong. Yet they all jumped at the sound of the metallic clang of the trailer door being slammed shut.
Cici put a hand on Lindsay’s shoulder. Bridget wound her hands around Lindsay’s other arm. They stood together and watched as the truck and trailer bounced down the driveway.
Noah dashed a hand across his eyes. “I got things to do,” he said gruffly, and he walked away, back straight, shoulders tall.
“That was brave of Noah,” Cici said softly.
Bridget pressed her head against Lindsay’s shoulder in a firm, brief gesture of support. But she was blinking back her own tears.
Lindsay swallowed hard. “He’s grown up,” she said. There was wonder and sorrow and also a touch of pride in her voice. “How could I not have noticed?”
Cici gave her a quick, one-armed hug and turned back toward the house. “Come on,” she said. “We’ve got things to do, too.”
~*~
Lindsay cried all the way through the graduation ceremony. “Remember when he first came to us?” she whispered to Cici, beaming through her tears. “He was stealing vegetables from our garden to live and camping in the folly. Now look at him. Just look at him!” And to Bridget, sniffling, “Remember how he would spend his whole paycheck every week on building materials the year our barn burned down? Was there ever a better boy?”
By that time, the other two women were crying, too, and when the graduating class was introduced and the audience surged to its feet with applause, no one cheered louder than the three ladies on the third row.
Dominic called before they left to report that he would have the car waiting in front when they returned, and Lindsay’s excitement overcame her sentiment as she pushed her way through the milling crowd and flung herself on Noah, hugging him hard. “I’m so proud of you! So proud!”
Cici and Bridget wedged their way in for hugs, crying, “Congratulations!” and “We love you!”
Noah laughed off his embarrassment and hugged them back. “Bet you never thought you’d see the day, huh?”
And they all insisted fiercely, “We never doubted you, not for a minute.”
Lindsay caught his hand. “Come on, Noah, let’s go. It’s so hot here. Let’s finish celebrating at home.”
He hung back, looking around uncertainly. “Well, you know, I’d kind of planned to go out with the guys …”
“After dinner,” Lindsay insisted, tugging on his hand.
“We kind of planned something, too,” Cici confessed.
“You’re going to like it,” Bridget promised, eyes sparkling.
He looked from one to the other of them, and then his better nature seemed to win out, although there was a bit more stoic resignation than pleasure in his eyes as he gave a nod. “Sure,” he said. “I guess there’s some stuff we should talk about anyway.”
Cici tossed Lindsay a triumphant “I told you so” look, and Lindsay’s excitement could barely be contained as she hurried Noah away.
~*~
The black Mustang, freshly washed and waxed, was sitting in front of the house when they pulled up, and Dominic was waiting on the porch. He came down the steps as they got out of Lindsay’s car.
“Hey, man, cool car,” Noah said, coming around to admire it. “When did you get this?”
“You like it?” Dominic replied easily. “It’s got a few rust spots here and there and could use a complete engine overhaul. But it’s got a new set of retreads on it, and I got it up to sixty on the highway.”
“’92, right?” Noah ran his hand lovingly over the finish. “Man, they knew how to make ’em back then. Would I love to get under the hood of something like this.”
Lindsay was practically bouncing with anticipation, her eyes sparkling like fireworks. Dominic said, “Hi, sweetheart,”—because they had long since given up pretense about their relationship—and kissed her cheek, slipping the keys into her hand. Cici and Bridget grinned at her.
“Say, I’ve got a buddy whose dad sells classic car parts and accessories on the Internet,” Noah said. “I bet he could find you a sick set of mags for this thing. How about popping the hood?”
That was when Lindsay stepped forward. “Why don’t you do it?” she suggested. “After all, it’s your car.” She held out the keys to him between her two fingers.
He stared at the keys. He stared at her. Lindsay laughed and thrust the keys into his hand. “Seriously, it’s your car! Happy graduation, Noah.”
For another moment he stared at the keys in disbelief and then an expression of sheer, incredulous delight washed over his face. “Are you kidding me? No way!”
Cici and Bridget burst into applause and laughter. “I’m kicking in the first year’s insurance,” Cici said, and Bridget stepped forward and slipped a gas card into his shirt pocket, giving him a quick, fierce hug.
“This ought to keep you on the road for a few months, anyway,” she said.
The wonder in his eyes grew as he looked from one to the other of them. “You did this? For me?”
“Well,” said Lindsay, trying very hard to pull a sober face, “it seemed like a practical thing for you to have. After all, we’re going to be way too busy with the vineyard to be running back and forth to see you when you go away to college, so this way you can drive home on breaks. And, of course, when you’re home, it sure will save wear and tear on our vehicles for you to have your own. So really, I guess the car is mostly for us.”
But as she spoke the happiness in his eyes visibly faded by slow and reluctant degrees. He swallowed hard and looked down at the keys in his hand. “You shouldn’t have done this.”
Lindsay smiled. “Don’t say that until you’ve checked it out. It hardly cost anything, and it wasn’t even running until yesterday. It needs a lot of work. But I thought you could do that over the summer and use the money you’ve saved for parts. If you like it, that is,” she added, a little anxiously.
Noah said, “Really. You shouldn’t have.” He held out the keys to her.
Cici said, “Noah?”
Bridget added, confused, “You can paint it if you don’t like the color.”
Even Dominic looked puzzled.
Noah looked from one to the other of them with a mixture of mounting dread and growing resolve, and by the time his eyes reached Lindsay, he had the look of a man who was about to cross a trestle in front of a speeding train. He said, “I don’t need a car to go to college because I’m not going to college.” He drew a breath. “I’m joining the Marines.”
The silence that followed was absolute. The birds didn’t chirp. The chickens didn’t cluck. The sheep didn’t baa. There was just stillness.
And then Lindsay gave a soft, incredulous exclamation of laughter and a single shake of her head. “I don’t think so. We talked about this. You’re going to college. You have scholarship offers. And don’t think I don’t know you have acceptance letters because—”
“No.” He spoke over her firmly. His hand bunched into a fist around the keys. “We didn’t talk about it. You talked about it. You decided. Well, now I’ve decided. I’m joining the Marines.”
Lindsay looked quickly around the circle of her friends for support, and there might have been just the tiniest flicker of panic in her eyes. Cici spoke up for her.
“Noah, maybe we could all go inside and talk about this. It’s a big decision, and I’m sure we’d all like to hear your thoughts …”
He said flatly, “Nothing to talk about. It’s done. I report for basic in two weeks.”
Bridget gasped softly. Lindsay didn’t move.
Noah held out the car keys to Lindsay again. She didn’t appear to see them. She said in a stunned voice, “But … your dream—of being an artist, of studying in a real university—”
Noah
tossed back his head in a brief and helpless gesture of exasperation. “That wasn’t my dream,” he burst out. “That was yours! Look, I like to draw, okay? I like thinking up things and painting about them. But I’m never going to do it for a living. And I’m never going to stand up in front of a classroom and teach other people how to do it or wear a suit and tie to work and draw cartoon characters for ad agencies because that’s not who I am. Don’t you get it? That’s who you want me to be and I’m not going to spend the rest of my life living out your dream for you!”
Lindsay reeled backward as though she’d been slapped. But the color in her cheeks and the flare of her nostrils was from anger, and she shot back, “So you think the way to fix that is to go out and play soldier?”
“For crying out loud, I’ve spent my whole life in this one stinking little county! I’ve never even been out of the state. This is a chance for me to see the world, to find out who I am and what I’m made of—”
“All you’re going to see of the world is the back side of some African desert where people plant bombs on the side of the road and shoot at anything that moves! That’s how you’re going to find yourself?” She looked at him in outrageous disdain. “The fact that you would even say that tells me you’re not mature enough to make the decision.”
“You told me I was.” His cheeks were starting to stain red. “You told me the decision was mine.”
Lindsay threw up her hands, palms out, and held them there firmly. “This discussion is over. It’s not going to happen. I raised you to be an artist, not a warrior. You’re not joining the Marines. Over. End of conversation.”
“You didn’t raise me to be anything!” he exploded back at her. “You gave me a place to stay and three squares and okay, I get it, but I don’t owe you my life for that, okay? It’s my life! And you can just go to hell because it’s already done!”
