They could start for California by the end of the month. How long would it take to get there? Eight years ago he probably would have known down to the minute, but he hadn’t concerned himself with such matters in quite a while, and besides there were more options now in regards to travel.
He trudged back to the house, where his bowl already waited on the table. Ma was bustling about, packing her valise.
Was she leaving now? Glad that she could put the sale of the farm in his hands and go to Pa immediately? Should he not tell her he’d changed his mind?
He wasn’t sure which was worse: breaking her heart by not going with her, or having her not mind at all.
She looked over at him, “Can you spare the wagon and team for a week or so?”
He gaped at her for a moment before stammering, “I—I reckon.”
“Good. I’m going to visit your sister.”
“I’ll drive you,” he said. He wanted to say good-bye to Cass, too. Meet his niece. “Or we could wait until the land sells, and we’re on our way.” He stressed the our, hoping Ma would realize his change of heart without him having to tell her outright.
She ignored the our. “Any woman who can manage without her husband for eight years can manage a few days’ drive on her own. The farm needs you, and I’ll make that husband of Cass’s promise to bring them here for Thanksgiving.”
Thanksgiving? He stared at her, but she continued to bustle about, not looking at him. “And on my way to Cass’s, I’m going to mail that to your pa.”
He noticed the envelope on the table for the first time, and tried to keep his voice steady as he asked, “What’s in it?”
Now she did turn, catching him in that fierce gaze. “I told him he’d better come home and see the farm before he decided to sell it. I told him we needed to discuss things as a family.” Her smile was faint but definite. “We owe you that much, Dean. Alec ran off, and Cass did near about the same, but all you ever did was put down roots and grow like one of those apple trees of yours. Your pa needs to see what it is he’s trying to uproot.”
I enjoyed this story very much. I relate to it in a variety of ways, several of which are, tangential but my liking of it is real. I was raised in Nebraska, though on a farm. I’ve had, indeed I have, decisions pushed on me by circumstance, that seem to have no “proper” choice: some gain, some loss with any decision. I’ve written a story, much, much different, with the same title, which is what got me to read yours. Turned out that, after reading yours, I’ve realized that the two stories have much in common, in spite of their differences. Still, the core of my response to your story is, well done. It moved me.