Alvin's Farm Book 5: An Innate Sense of Recognition

  No alcohol was imbibed at Tommie’s house on Friday night. Tanner spent most of that evening holed up in what had been Alana’s room, but none of the adults were sure if he knew it.

  Mostly honest talk flowed between a trio plus one, others slipping in and out. Eric and Dana had arrived with the rest, but after a few hasty introductions to only those necessary, Eric spirited Dana upstairs where she would be secluded from so many members of his family, and safe from men who would never find her in Oregon.

  Dana was protected from queries and long looks, not that any would guess. Eric never would have imagined that a single Cassel, Smith, Shelton, or Schumacher for that matter, could peruse Dana’s thoughts. An enormous group was squeezed into the house and barn, Andy’s relatives too. Alana’s old room only held Eric’s core, but none of them had any inkling.

  Only one knew; in the farm’s kitchen, Sam had shaken Dana’s hand, then gazed into eyes teeming with awful, gut-wrenching moments. Sam smiled, held his stomach. After Eric and Dana went upstairs, Sam stepped to the back porch, hurling spittle across the yard.

  That wasn’t all he had wished to project, but Jenny was close, and he didn’t know if she saw it. Sam had from the moment Dana let her gaze reach his, eyes so brown and haunted that Sam had to flex his feet to the floor, like seeing Jenny’s ruined face on Easter in 1975, but having no idea why. Thirty-one years later, Sam was all too aware.

  He was glad they were staying at home that evening, Dana comfortable with that top floor room. David had smiled, Rachel too; all the kids except Will would be in that house the night before Chelsea got hitched. David would take the couch; Rachel had offered him her room, but he had chuckled, said it was no bother. Their light, happy voices had cut into Sam, kids ignorant of their parents’ past. But Eric had stepped right into it, no way for him to escape.

  The irony stuck to Sam all evening, one full of joyous voices, Schumachers as well as the usual suspects. Eric and his wife Paula were well known to this large family, years of friendship and Grant’s assistance on the farm culminating in a wedding between these clans, one that as the father of the bride Sam brokered, but allowed Tommie and Jacob their places. They had gone to school with Andy’s dad, so had Alvin, and he was Chelsea’s father too. Sam weaved in and out of conversations, trying to keep his mind from his son Eric, more focused on Andy’s father. Eric Schumacher moved slowly, his heart attack altering his steps. Like the rest of the oldsters, he didn’t go upstairs. Aware of Dana’s location, Sam didn’t wander up there either.

  There was no need to, for a bathroom was right outside Tommie and Rae’s door. Jenny had thrown up in there on Christmas 1975 when Sam came to tell her thanks for getting Jacob sober, a bathroom Sam wanted for a similar purpose, but only saliva emerged. A heavy, sour stench bubbled at the bottom of his stomach, unmoving.

  If it came up, then others might know; Sam’s wife, her brother. Maybe Sam’s brother, Debbie too, Rae and Max. Sam drifted from them most of the night, hanging out with Chelsea and Andy, Will and Bethany. Eric, but not Sam’s son; Sam chatted with the Schumachers for much of the evening.

  Jenny noted his distance, but misunderstood it. She liked Dana, was also glad Eric and his girlfriend would stay at the house. The wedding was set for one p.m. and Rachel was fixing breakfast. Andy would sleep at his and Chelsea’s place, then spend the morning with his parents and their kin, one last time for families to be separate, then forever another name would be tacked onto the Cassel-Smith-Shelton crew. More would be added as the years ensued, but Schumacher was from ages back, due to Grant. Yet Alvin’s name didn’t fall under that umbrella. He was dead and Harris had gone with him.

  Chelsea’s legal name would be Chelsea Louise Schumacher, but still Jenny’s daughter, Alvin and Sam’s little girl. Chelsea glowed like a kid, and Jenny felt like one herself. A few bites of chocolate pound cake in the afternoon had been necessary, after Eric brought Dana home.

  This was Eric’s home and from the looks of it, Dana wouldn’t be far behind. She and Eric would share the queen mattress upstairs, a bed reserved for couples. David had been gracious in taking the couch, no one offended or embarrassed that Eric and Dana would sleep together. Jenny was so far past that, but it was funny that Chelsea had wanted to sleep at the farm.

  Jenny sighed, then looked for Sam. Most of the cousins had left, their parents too. Lexi and Ricky remained, but they always stayed at Tommie’s when in Arkendale. Jenny spotted Lexi near the kitchen and they shared glances. “You seen Sam?” Jenny mouthed.

  Lexi pointed to the closed bathroom door and Jenny nodded. Lexi went back in the kitchen as Jenny rapped lightly. “Sam?”

  No sound, then a toilet flushed. Jenny stepped back, then waited.

  It took him a few minutes and she listened to Tommie, Jacob, and Eric. Not her Eric, but an older man, halted by his heart condition but sounding so pleased for his son. Eric’s youngest was getting married and Jenny’s youngest was in love. That her eldest would be wed tomorrow brought a few tears, so many good feelings within her.

  It reminded Jenny of her wedding day and of having Chelsea, being reborn in those two instances. She had shed such fear in giving birth, then felt tremendous peace when marrying Sam. Except for their quarrel over Eric’s future, Sam completed Jenny, and she hoped to share some small adoring moments with him that night, even if David was just outside their room, snoring on the sofa.

  Still Sam didn’t emerge and Jenny knocked again. “Honey, you okay?”

  “Be out in a minute.”

  Jenny leaned against the wall, near a picture of Max and Liz’s big day, a couple only eighteen at the time. Jenny didn’t think about Liz’s then-pregnant condition, noting Max’s large, one-eyed smile, his bad arm gripped by his newly wedded wife. Tomorrow Chelsea would marry Andy, a couple older, but so in love. It happened at any age, deep abiding passion unable to be ignored.

  Then she heard the door, saw her husband looking ill. “Baby, you okay?” Jenny asked, stepping his way.

  He nodded, smelling of bile. Jenny touched his clammy face. Was he sick?

  “Honey, can you say goodbye?”

  “Yeah sure. Sam, are you all right?”

  He shook his head as Tommie’s ringing laughter hit them both. “Just tell whoever’s left we’ll see them tomorrow.”

  Tenderly Sam made love to her and Jenny fell asleep so calmly, she never would have guessed all that tumbled through his mind. Other couples loved that night too, all but the one waiting to marry. Will and Bethany hoped this would bring on labor, even if it meant interrupting Chelsea’s ceremony.

  Tommie and Rae made love in celebration of Chelsea’s wedding as well as a desire to fete their long and sometimes troubled marriage. Afterwards Rae cried, openly wishing someone would be there tomorrow.

  Max and Liz did the same, but while Rae had wished for Alvin, Liz and her husband desired their son. Afterwards Max gripped his wife, wiping her cheeks, both of her able hands on his face doing the same.

  In houses all over Arkendale, lovers married or not came together, all with a quiet, secretive air. Scott and Alana had all seven children under their roof, a heralded blessing. Steve and Marcy’s three kids had their childhood beds, Emily and Travis Smith in slumber where they grew up. Kimberly and Dustin Shelton rested in rooms their aunts and uncles had used, their parents Lexi and Ricky right above her folks, the Smith house near to bursting. All those houses, save Will and Bethany’s, held family, but for all Will and Bethany tried, their child stayed put, not spoiling its Aunt Chelsea’s last night as a Cassel.

  As Rachel made pancakes, Chelsea’s cell rang. She hoped it might be Andy, who hadn’t yet answered her good morning text.

  She was quiet and Jenny noticed her tears. “Who is it?”

  “Yeah, yeah, oh my God thanks! Yeah, I love you too! Oh yeah, call them, oh Mitch, they’ll love it!”

  Everyone was awake, in various states of attire. David had taken the initial shower and Rachel had gone next. As Chelsea s
poke with a cousin far away, Sam entered the room, his recently trimmed hair still damp.

  “Is it Mitch?” Rachel shouted, the spatula in her hand.

  Chelsea nodded, putting a finger in her other ear. “What? Oh yeah, yeah, I’ll tell them. Yeah well, pictures’ll be up by the time you wake tomorrow. Okay, yeah, I love you too. Bye!”

  All stared at her, then Chelsea broke into tears. “Oh my God, he just wanted to tell me good luck, I mean not good luck, Christ! That he loved me and Andy, and wished he was here!”

  She was surrounded by her mother and sister, who had given Eric the spatula. Instead he let a batch burn as all embraced, the day’s first gift allowing Sam a moment to breathe.

  More followed; Andy sent a simple cello-wrapped bouquet, reminiscent of those first flowers from when he thought Chelsea was sick. Rich, vibrant hues filled Jenny’s vase and Chelsea wept speaking to him. They would talk, but not see each other, until that afternoon.

  Dana helped clean the kitchen, her manners at ease around Eric’s immediate family. Even Sam could look at her, his heart set alight by Mitch’s call and Andy’s token bouquet. That day Sam would be immune, but it was more, a call on his heart for both Eric and Dana to live in Arkendale. He wasn’t sure how he would later explain it. Only to Jenny could he be honest, and only after she saw it. Sam wouldn’t tell her himself, but after the wedding, he was certain she wouldn’t miss it, unless Eric and Dana left in the middle of the ceremony. Once Jenny wasn’t the mother of the bride, her eyes would be clear.

  On that day, her thoughts were like the rest, focused on two people, and for those first hours it was all on Chelsea. She seemed ready, but nervous, would chastise herself for falling into tears. A guard was changing; Chelsea was leaving home. As Alana, Susannah, and Janessa arrived, it was more evident. Sam and Jenny’s family would never be the same.

  It contained Bethany Traynor Cassel and a coming grandchild. Dana Browning seemed a new addition and Rachel and David’s sleepovers were temporary, what Sam and Jenny assumed. Rachel however, had other ideas.

  But that day nuptials filled all minds. Will and Bethany had married in San Francisco, a neutral location for both families. Chelsea’s ceremony would be right in her parents’ front yard, under a tree that seemed forever tainted, but that year it carried yellowing leaves, twisting in a light breeze. The sun shone, the day was mild. The bride’s dress was known just to mother and daughter and the maid of honor.

  Janessa and Susannah’s gowns were tea-length in cornflower blue. Rachel’s was the same, with a scoop neck that accentuated her medium bust. She was shaped more like Jenny, but Chelsea’s gown concealed her larger bosom, the only bit she had told Andy, what she shared among the women as all dressed in Jenny and Sam’s large bedroom; Andy had wanted to know how much cleavage she would be sporting.

  Susannah looked slightly embarrassed, then smiled as Janessa asked what was so funny? All were there, even Dana, who joined in the laughter, Jenny and Rachel glad for her presence. When she had gone to shower, the family plied Eric with questions, most of which he was happy to answer. Yes he loved her, no they weren’t next on the marriage train. Rachel was, he had teased, or David, but those siblings sighed, no partners in their midst.

  Eric had given a bounty of information, but Sam heard so much unsaid. As with Jenny, plenty was known, but the deepest parts remained buried. Concealed was a better word, for it didn’t hurt Jenny anymore. The only pain was from her illness. What her father had done was a faded memory.

  Dana’s history lay as a recent incident, which Sam didn’t ponder as cackles slipped from his bedroom. Then Sam stared at Will, who looked tired but cheerful. “So, anything happening?” Sam asked.

  David laughed, then headed to the kitchen. “They wish!”

  “She’s having contractions every once in a while. God, if she could only have the baby before her mother gets here.”

  “When’s she coming?” Sam asked.

  “In ten days. Dad, is it wrong for me to not want her around?”

  Sam smiled, hearing hoots from his closed arched doorway. He led Will into the kitchen, where David poured coffee. Eric sat at the table, looking lost without his better half.

  That hit Sam; three sons, but only David was unclaimed. Sam said a quick prayer, hoping that boy wouldn’t be alone as long as Sam had.

  “No Will, I mean…” Sam smiled, running his hand through Eric’s hair.

  A pause emerged; it had been a long time since a father had been so hands-on with his youngest, but Sam couldn’t help it. All he wanted was for that son and Dana to be within his sight.

  “Dad?” David asked, unable to stop staring.

  Sam sighed. He ached to tell these boys, which was silly, for they were men, all of them. Even Eric, and maybe he was carrying the biggest load. “What’d you say Will?” But Sam was fully aware of the question.

  “Oh nothing. Dad, you okay?”

  Sam nodded, then felt overtaken. It had been David on his feet first, a carbon copy in looks and that occasional fiery temperament. He had grown a beard, surprising all the family; now he appeared as a mirror to Sam, but no trace of heartache etched David’s face.

  That stood on Will, who joined next, his broken elbow and ankle a worthy sacrifice as fatherhood waited right around the corner. Will’s bearing was that of stability well earned, what Sam had possessed as soon as Alvin died.

  But before that came Jenny, what Sam found on Eric’s face, which was similar to Sam’s, but no whiskers, only some of his mother’s plenteous freckles. Everyone said that David and Eric looked just like him, but Sam saw more of Jenny in their youngest, her aching eyes and bright smile two contrasting views on Eric’s countenance. He was overjoyed for his sister’s wedding and how easily Dana was merging into the family, but possessed a truth so horrifying, how to deal with it sat beyond him.

  For the first time since Eric left for college, Sam wished he was already home. Gripped by his three sons, he released a small sigh, noting that he loved them. It was a day for his daughter, Sam allowed, but in that moment, his boys held sway.

  Chapter 6