A Brother's Duty

Lucy ended the cell phone call and walked into John’s office from the kitchen. “That was very strange.”

  John looked up from the notepad where he was working on the bill of materials for the porch. “What was?”

  “Zara got a visit from Dr. Drake at three this morning.”

  John put down his pencil to give his full attention to Lucy. “That is strange.”

  “Very. Zara’s point of contact with Gillian’s social circle was me. And Selena to a lesser extent.” Lucy pursed her lips as she thought. “Zack stayed at her place last night. They were watching my Marx Brothers movies and chatting when there was a knock at the door. You’re supposed to ring up first.”

  John sat still, waiting for the next piece of the story. “Anyway, Zack answered the door, afraid that Luke might have decided to come calling. But it was Gillian. Zara said she looked really surprised to see Zack and almost as surprised to see Zara. Then she asked for me, making some lame excuse that she’d seen the light on in my room and wanted to talk to me about when I was going to turn over Grandfather’s notebooks to the university.”

  “And then she left?”

  “Not right away. Gillian started to insist that she should be allowed to search my room for the notebooks. Zara told her that to the best of her knowledge Grandfather’s papers had been willed to me, not the university, and in any case I moved out almost a year ago and that I’d taken everything like that with me.”

  John smirked in appreciation. “Nice prevarication.”

  “Gillian must have been really badly spooked by your spur of the moment comment, John.”

  John bounced the eraser end of his pencil on the clipboard for a moment. “When you see your lawyer on Tuesday afternoon, could you please also ask him about what he advises with respect to Gillian?”

  Lucy frowned. “You’re still offering to buy those lots if I need the money?”

  “If you need it. I took a look at the official plan of the area when I was in Almonte to register a builder’s lien. It’s no problem to sever any parcel two acres or larger. If you’d rather, there’s a parcel on the other side of the big bog that you could either rent to your neighbour or sell to him.”

  Lucy nodded. “None of our biosurvey points are in that area.” She thought for a second. “Okay, I have some options, then. When I talk to my lawyer, I’ll see what she has to say.”

  John looked sheepish. “My assumptions are showing again, right?”

  Lucy sidled over to him and unconsciously smoothed his hair. “Yep. Now, what are we shopping for today?”

  John did his best to ignore the hand stroking his hair and consulted his list. “Sealer paint for the trailer roof, colour unimportant but it should be good enough quality to last a few years. Epoxy paint for the porch floor, that ugly blue-gray stuff is cheapest but it can come in a variety of colours if you can’t stand blue-gray. Exterior paint for the porch rails and supports; and sealer paint for the porch roof, in your choice of colour because it can be seen from the drive. UV resistant awning fabric to replace the tarp over the gap between the trailer and porch. It only has to cover the part over the door but you’d be able to make better use of the sitting area during a rain if it covered the entire gap. I’ll price the cost of screening in that half of the porch, if you want.”

  Lucy said, “I’ll think about it. But you can price it out if you feel like it.”

  John looked up and nodded. “Then I will.” He continued the list. “Brushes, trays, rollers, tack cloth, etc. And last, but not least, baklava, roasted pepper hummus and a few assorted loaves of Rideau Bakery bread.”

  Lucy had been following along on the clipboard as John ran down the list trying to imagine what colours she wanted for the porch. But her brain hiccoughed as he listed the grocery items. “Baklava?”

  “Irene is expecting again and she asked me to pick up some things. Ernie emailed me to confirm that I was getting them because he was almost ready to call in a favour from one of his neighbours to do the afternoon milking for him and drive from Athens to Ottawa to get the hummus for her.”

  Lucy remembered bundling herself into the car at eleven p.m. and driving as far as Bells Corners before she found an open store that carried taboule or the parsley and tomatoes she was missing so she could make her own. She smiled. “Any particular place?”

  “That’s why we’re going to the building supply store in South Keys rather than one of the closer ones. It’s near the Rideau Bakery main plant and Irene’s preferred hummus supplier.”

  Smudge came into the office and nuzzled Lucy’s leg. “Well, hello Miss Smudge.” Lucy bent down to pick her up. “I’m going to enjoy doing this while I can still bend over.”

  “You aren’t concerned about toxoplasmosis?”

  “No. Grandfather and I were digging in dirt and identifying various types of animal droppings for years. I’m 99.9% certain I’m immune. And there’s a simple test for it. But I won’t offer to clean out the litter box until I’m tested, if then. I’ll ask the doctor to test me at my next appointment.”

  “I’ll mention it to Irene, too. She was paranoid about Smudge and the barn cats when she was pregnant with the twins.”

  “If she’s been working that long on a dairy farm she’s likely to be immune, too.”

  John set his clipboard aside and picked up a bundle of mail. “I have to swing by the bank in Kemptville. I’ve got some cheques to deposit.”

  Lucy looked at John’s desk with its untidy piles of paperwork. “I thought you had a secretary.”

  “No. Diana from church comes in every other Wednesday with one of her people to do the bookkeeping and payroll but no secretary. It’s my business cell phone number on my card so I’m accessible most of the time. I return calls at lunch and in the evenings. You, Irene and a couple of friends have my personal cell number.”

  Lucy realized she was still standing within easy reach of John. She suppressed a longing to touch him again and turned to get her sweater. “I should go freshen up if we have a forty minute drive ahead of us.”

  John pulled out a deposit book and envelope from his desk. ‘I’ll be a couple of minutes. Meet you at the back door.”

  He turned to watch as she made the left turn toward the kitchen. The maternity clothing wore was a reminder of the new life she was carrying but it only enhanced her beauty. He said a quick prayer for Lucy and the baby before turning his attention to his paperwork.

  “Hi Reenie. Where can I put these?” John lifted the grocery bags in his hands.

  “Hey, Johnny. You can put them on the counter. Ernie’s out in the equipment barn muttering at the baler, I think, or else he’d be here to greet you guys. I think it’s something mechanical he needs help with. I left a pair of coveralls and gumboots for you in the mud room for when you guys go out to do the milking.” Irene turned toward Lucy who was following slowly behind John with a pie in her hands. “You must be Lucy.”

  Lucy nodded and indicated the pie as an apology for not shaking hands. “And you must be Irene.”

  A little girl with wispy black hair crawled halfway across the kitchen and started to pull herself up on the skirt of Lucy’s sleeveless yellow maternity dress. A larger blonde boy crawled across the floor and began to tug on John’s pant leg with an urgent “Unh, unh” noise. John crouched down to pick him up and a jealous Lissa let go of Lucy to try to get there first. John wrapped an arm around each of the children and stood.

  “Lucy, this is Melissa or Lissa for short.” He punctuated that with a kiss. “And this big lad is her younger by eight minutes brother Henk.”

  Henk echoed, “Enk!”

  Irene took the pie from Lucy. “And what is this?”

  “It’s a lemon meringue pie from Jessie’s Place, the diner where I work. Jessie’s been teaching me how to make them but it will take a lot of practice before I get a crust like hers. I’d have made one myself but I don’t have a real oven in the trailer. Actually, I probably would have bought one of Jessica’s anyway.”


  Irene put the pie in a place of honour on the counter before turning to really assess Lucy. She wondered why John had made such a big deal about her tattoos. Compared to some of the women at the malls in Brockville and Kingston, Lucy’s tattoos and jewellery were rather tasteful. She glanced over at John who was sparing a fond glance at Lucy in between paying attention to his niece and nephew. Finally she said, “Would you like a cup of decaf or some tea?”

  Lucy felt the uncertain welcome but decided to attribute it to sisterly skepticism rather than something more personal. “Decaf would be wonderful but not too much. It’s half an hour home and I didn’t spot any convenient places to stop, if you know what I mean.”

  Irene patted her abdomen and chuckled sympathetically. “Yes, I do but the way John describes it you have it worse than I ever did, even with twins. Have a seat.” She walked over to a pair of large thermos carafes on the counter. “The red one is decaf and the black one is high test, John.”

  “Has Ernie had any yet?”

  “He’ll want some before he starts the milking.”

  John set the children gently on the floor. “Then I’ll just grab some water and go help him with the baler.” He took a glass from the cupboard and filled it from the water cooler.

  Irene pointed at the cooler. “Our well water here has a high sulphur content. It’s potable but not palatable, if you know what I mean.”

  Lucy nodded as Irene put the cup of decaf in front of her along with a sugar bowl and a carton of cream. She plucked a teaspoon from a huge mug in the centre of the table and began to fix her coffee. “I know exactly what you mean. Grandfather had a new deep well drilled at the farm when he discovered from a neighbour that there was a limestone substrate about sixty feet under the clay. There’s a hint of sulphur in late August if there’s been a drought but mostly it’s really sweet water. The old well was bad enough that we set up a solar distillation rig on the south side of the cabin to get our drinking water. The stuff from the tap was okay to cook and wash with, though.”

  Irene poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down. Lissa crawled over to Lucy and asked to be picked up. Henk, unsure of Lucy, sat in the middle of the kitchen floor looking back and forth between the two women.

  “Come here, Henk.” Irene held out a hand and let Henk pull himself to standing before lifting him onto her lap. “Will you mind if we have the pie before the boys start the milking?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Good. I hope you aren’t a vegetarian.”

  Lucy smirked. “Not all of us former Goth wannabes are vegetarians, you know.”

  Irene blushed and stammered a reply, “Well, I wasn’t sure…”

  Lucy smoothed some of Lissa’s wayward hair as the little girl reached up to play with her sparkly earrings. “Most of my look is me being a rebellious daughter. I’m still dealing with it. I’d lose most of the tattoos if I could wave a magic wand but I like all my earrings.”

  Irene smiled. “So does Lissa, it seems.” She paused, “We had some issues with Dad, so rebellion isn’t unfamiliar to us. It was the worst for Rob. Up until the day he died, Dad expected Rob to be a dutiful eldest son and take over the farm, even after Ernie and I moved in. Rob joined the Army the day he graduated high school and refused to quit and come home after Mum died. About half of Rob’s tattoos were from that time in his life. Toward the end he didn’t like most of them either.”

  “John told me that you didn’t like tattoos.”

  Irene paused to craft her reply. “It’s not so much that I don’t like tattoos but I think you have to be really certain you’re going to want them there for the rest of your life. Some of them are okay, like the Olympic swimmers who got the maple leaf and rings tattoo on their shoulders or a unit badge on the arm after you’ve been in combat. But there’s nothing more pathetic than a divorced guy like our neighbour who still has his ‘I love Miranda’ tattoo.”

  Lucy wrinkled her nose. “I wish I could have been a bit smarter about mine. At least the two that show while I’m working are things I thought long and hard about before I had them done.”

  Irene raised an eyebrow. “You have more than those two?”

  “Five more, it was a long rebellion.”

  They were silent for a second. “John hasn’t told me much about you but he said you were a scientist.”

  Lucy started, “I’m not…” Then she held up a finger to prevent Irene interrupting. “I’m not working as a scientist but I think John’s right. I’m trained as a botanist and ecologist. And I’m keeping up with the observations that my biology professor grandfather started in the 1950s on the old farmstead. And I spend quite a lot of time reading the serious botany and climate change journals. So I guess I’m still a scientist, at heart.”

  Henk interrupted a reply by bouncing on Irene’s lap so Lucy continued. “But with my tips at the diner I’m making more as a waitress than I ever did as a grad student. You have to luck into a research fellowship or a teaching position if you want to make good money in science.”

  Irene pried Henk’s sweaty hand off of the hoop earrings she’d unwisely worn in an attempt to dress up for guests then took them out. “Ecology? How informed are you on the runoff and setback regulations near watercourses?”

  “I don’t know the details but I know the theory behind why they were put in place. And I know how to test for e. coli and other pollutants.”

  “You might want to offer your services as a consultant to some of the local farmers or cottagers.”

  Lucy sighed and said, “The neighbour cottagers that I know are a pain to deal with. I know that farmers hate to give up productive acreage but most of them at least have a long term vision and reluctantly agree that they need a buffer. But cottagers seem to either go the environmental crusader route or the clear cut the forest so I can see the lake route. Both are annoying. Although the big boat and loud party crowd are the most annoying.”

  Irene pressed on. “But, as a botanist, can you recommend what to plant in the buffer zones? Are there particular plants that help slow the runoff or would fix some of the pollutants?”

  Lucy nodded thoughtfully at the question. “That’s a very good question. I don’t have an answer off the top of my head but it would make a good research topic. I’m sure I can get some good information but there’s so many variables – soil condition, soil composition, slope, type of fertilizer you’re using, whether there’s a holding pond or not, type of drainage, if you have earth moving equipment, lots of variables… I’d have to think about it. I’ll bet there are some of my colleagues who’ve already studied it in detail for some very particular conditions and recommended general solutions that are either very costly or don’t make sense for here.”

  “That’s what Ernie said when he finished talking with the people at the fair. At least they knew there were limitations to their solution. Ernie couldn’t see how it could work here. We have a couple of intermittent streams that disappear in the summer and the cows love to hang out there because it’s shaded. The best he could come up with was to encourage the alders to come back.”

  “I’ll be happy to do some research on that. It will give me something interesting to occupy my brain. The library in Smiths Falls has computers I can use. You can give me a tour the next time I come out.”

  “We have a buffer around both of those streams but the cows aren’t happy because they can smell the water in the spring and the green forage in the summer. If there was a way to change it up… Well, we’d like to put some of the buffer zone acres back into production but we don’t want to risk a fine or getting the downstream neighbours sick. There’s one yahoo upstream who pays the fine because he makes more from the extra crops. But he says he’ll have to stop next year. The fines escalate if you have a past history. And the inspectors know he’s a problem.”

  There was a brief silence and Irene poured herself another cup of decaf before starting to interrogate Lucy. Lucy smiled and asked questions about John when she got t
he chance.

  After forty minutes of conversation and child minding, Lissa pointed at the cookie jar and looked hopefully at Lucy. “Cookie?”

  Irene parked Henk on one hip and walked over to the cookie jar. “Lissa has an instinct about when it’s snack time. We always have a snack before the afternoon milking when Ernie comes in to clean up after his other chores.”

  Lucy heard some yipping in the distance. “Lissa probably has good hearing, like I do. There’s a dog barking and he’s getting closer to the house.”

  Irene cocked an ear as she set a plate with some cookies on the table. “Oh. I see what you mean. Ruff is asking Ernie or John to play with him. You do have better hearing than me. I played piano in some pretty loud bars when I was younger.”

  “I always wear noise reduction earplugs when I go to loud concerts or bars. Mother is a doctor and it’s one of the few pieces of advice she gave me that I actually took.”

  A few seconds later, a deep male voice called in. “We got the baler fixed. Book John for an hour. I’ll be in as soon as I wash the grease off.”

  Irene called. “Lucy brought lemon meringue pie.”

  Ernie called back, “Then I definitely won’t dawdle.”

  Irene and Lucy got the twins settled into their high chairs with a cookie and a sippy cup of milk each. Irene commented, “At least we don’t have to buy milk for these two.”

  Lucy smiled as she took down plates for the pie and set the table for the adults.

  Irene turned to Lucy as she began to carefully cut the pie. “I have pregnant head. Was there anything in the groceries that needed refrigeration?”

  Lucy smiled her commiseration. “Two of the bags are bread from Rideau Bakery. The other one is from the Lebanese grocery. There’s a big package of baklava, two packs of pita bread, two large tubs of hummus and, because it smelled perfect, a large tub of taboule that I asked them to add more tomato to. I suppose the hummus and taboule should be put away.”

  Irene’s eyes got wide in appreciation. “Lots of good stuff then. I have a batch of beef stew in the big crock pot.” She shrugged. “Occupational hazard. When you run a dairy farm you end up with a lot of utility beef. It would be nice to have chicken a bit more often.”

  Lucy’s eyes got wide. “Good utility beef? I have several recipes for things like beef bourguignon and steak in gravy that don’t work well with Alberta AAA.”

  “Well then, I’ll make sure you have some to go home with.”

  “Not too much please. I only have a very small freezer in the trailer. But now that I’ve said it out loud I really want to make the housekeeper’s steak in mushroom gravy.”

  “Housekeeper?” Irene sounded envious.

  “Mother was head of obstetrics at the teaching hospital for most of my growing up. We had a nanny for me and a housekeeper who cooked and cleaned for us. The housekeeper was nice. She taught me how to cook.” Lucy’s tone was very neutral.

  John came into the kitchen looking freshly scrubbed. He gave Lissa a kiss then sat down beside Lucy.

  Lucy had another vision of John dandling her daughter on his knee and stifled the intense wave of longing. Irene noted the looks passing between the two of them and smiled to herself as she began to lift slices of pie onto the plates.

  Ernie came in wearing an Eagles ‘Hell Freezes Over’ tour tee shirt and comfortable jeans. He looked at the sky high meringue and sat quickly in his place at Irene’s side.

  “How about a kiss first?” Irene held his pie at arm’s length away from him.

  Ernie rolled his eyes in mock disappointment but leaned over for a kiss that threatened to embarrass both John and Lucy. “Satisfied, Mrs. vanVliet?”

  Irene gave him his pie and a dreamy smile. “Entirely, Mr. vanVliet. For now.”

  Lucy asked, “Are they always like this?”

  John waggled a hand. “Naw. They tone it down when Reenie is expecting.”

  Lucy looked confused for a moment. “But Irene is expecting…” Her eyes widened. “Oh, I get it.”

  Irene smirked. Ernie leaned over for another kiss. John said, “That’s why they sit next to each other like newlyweds even though they’ve been married for twelve years.”

  “Twelve years?”

  Ernie nodded. “Last month. Irene was a beautiful June bride.”

  Irene smiled contentedly. “We had some problems conceiving the first time. Ernie’s from a very big family, three boys and eight girls. We were hoping for a big family, too. I’m surprised that I got pregnant again so quickly.” She touched her belly with reverence and Ernie leaned over for another kiss. “But we’re really happy about it.”

  Henk started chanting, “Ki..ki..ki..”

  Lissa pointed at her plate and said, imperiously, “Cookie!”

  Irene leaned the other way and spoke to the little boy in the high chair. “You want a kiss, too?”

  Henk held his crumb covered hands over his head and presented his face for a kiss.

  John reached for a cookie. “Can I give Lissa a second? It won’t ruin her supper?”

  “Sure.” Ernie said. “She’ll eat a few bites of supper then fall asleep when the milk hits her stomach.”

  Irene gave Henk a small shower of kisses while he giggled. “And Henk will eat almost a cup of the stew.” Sensing Lucy’s uncertainty, she said, “We put it through the food processor with a coarse blade. He loves his food.”

  Lucy compared the hefty boy with his stringbean sister. “I guess Henk got the big frame from the MacLeish side.” She was looking at John as she said it but blushed when she realized that Irene might take it the wrong way.

  Irene laughed. “I used to curse my big frame when I was in high school. I wanted to be built more like you, kind of slender but obviously a girl.”

  Ernie said, “But I managed to convince her that there’s nothing more beautiful than a big fit farm girl who is also obviously a girl.”

  Irene gazed adoringly at her husband. Lucy wondered what it would be like to find someone she could share that kind of love with, unaware that John was looking at her the same way Ernie was looking at Irene.

  Ernie was yawning by the time nine o’clock hit. “I’m sorry, folks. As good as the company has been, the morning milking still starts at five.” He gave Irene a kiss as he waved good night.

  There were a few gurgles from the baby monitor but nothing that indicated that either twin was ramping up. John said, “Good night, Ernie. I hope the kids sleep through.”

  He turned to acknowledge the wish with a smile. “They should. You guys tired them out.”

  “Should I make more decaf?” Irene asked after watching her husband climb the stairs.

  Lucy complained, “You had to mention liquids.” She stood. “I’ll have a cup after I make room.” She left the room quickly.

  Irene motioned John over while she started a fresh pot of decaf. “Wow. I wasn’t sure about her after what I heard from Rob and you but she’s really nice.”

  John smirked. “And she can hold her own in Scrabble.”

  “I wonder what’s between her and her mother. It seems way worse than Rob and Dad.”

  “I’m not sure. We haven’t talked much about family things.” John interrupted Irene’s protest. “I haven’t been ready to talk about Rob or Dad and I’m not entirely certain where we want this to go.”

  Irene’s face softened in sympathy. “Oh, Johnny. You’ve gone and fallen in love with her, haven’t you?”

  John blew out a sigh. “Yeah. I think so.”

  “Is there a problem with that? Other than the usual male pride thing that you might get hurt if she doesn’t love you back?”

  “Oh, it’s all about the pride.”

  “I know. She’s not June Cleaver.”

  John laughed. “No, she certainly isn’t. She’s challenging a lot of my prejudices.”

  “Well, you seem happier than I’ve seen you in a long while.”

  “I am.” He looked down the hall before he spoke. “And Luc
y is a big part of it.”

  Irene gave her brother a quick squeeze. “Well, I like her. You can bring her out any time, even if she can beat me at Scrabble.”

  “It’ll be up to her.”

  Irene brought out some clean cups as John filled the dishwasher. “You’re thinking marriage aren’t you?”

  John looked up with a rueful expression. “I am. I think I must be nuts.”

  “No, you aren’t. Give her a chance, John.” Irene continued. “Ernie likes her, too.”

  Lucy came back in at that moment. “And I like Ernie.” She winked at Irene. “Too bad he’s already taken.”

  Irene put her hands on her hips and tried to glare but saw the teasing expression on Lucy’s face. John refrained from saying anything. Irene eventually said, “You’ll find someone that’s right for you, Lucy.”

  Lucy’s eyes went involuntarily to John who was looking at her in an almost tender way. Lucy looked away quickly and said, “Is the decaf ready?”

  “So, will you want to come back?” John asked in a half serious tone.

  Lucy settled herself into the seat in an almost comfortable position. “They’re good people, John. And I have to come back. Ernie promised me a tour of the buffer zones so I can get a sense of what’s growing there and some of the other factors. Irene wants to know if they can make the zone narrower and have it be just as effective.”

  “Is that possible?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll have to look up the regulations. If it’s based on some sort of testing regime then I may be able to do something. If it’s only a matter of x meters from a waterway then that’s more of an issue for the surveyors. But it would be interesting to investigate what plants are growing in the local microclimate and see which are native and which are feral cultivars.”

  “You’re using those big words again.” John’s tone was teasing.

  “So? You understand them.” Lucy wasn’t going to change the way she spoke unless there was a good reason.

  “I don’t imagine that there are too many escaped commercial seeds from other crops in the area.”

  “You’d be surprised. The big one is cultivated raspberries. If the birds or raccoons have been eating commercial varieties they can be spread much wider than you think.”

  John sketched a bow with his free hand. “I bow to your superior knowledge and wisdom.”

  Lucy laughed. “Just remind me when I start making pronouncements about things I’m not actually an expert in. Academia is really great at teaching you how to sound like you know what you’re talking about when you haven’t got a clue.”

  “Sounds like politics.”

  “It’s exactly like politics. Except that it isn’t votes that count, it’s tenure and grant money. If you don’t sound smart enough people won’t take you seriously. I’m so glad I’m out of that particular rat race.”

  “So why did you agree to look up all of that for Reenie?”

  John gave a brief glance at Lucy’s suddenly thoughtful face. “Earlier tonight I realized that I studied what I did because I love knowing about how the world works. How all of the systems fit together and how one action can have consequences in many places, even if we can’t really see it right away. My grandfather taught me that seeking knowledge about God’s creation, and yes, I believe that He is the Creator, is a way to get closer to Him. And besides, I can’t just turn off my curiosity and it’s a really interesting multivariable question. Just the sort of thing an ecologist should be willing and eager to look into.”

  “Have you thought about helping to redesign shorelines for people with waterfront?”

  “I have no clue how I’d go about starting that.”

  “I have some contacts with landscapers and there are a couple of people I know that want a more natural waterfront but without lots of trees.”

  “Sort of like the planned landscaping from the English great houses?”

  John contemplated the question while Lucy admired the lines of his face in the dashboard lights. “Kind of. The guy I know that’s looking for advice wants an attractive way to retard the run off from his lawn without losing too much of the view.”

  Lucy sighed. “One of those clear cut the trees so I can see the lake types?”

  “No, that was Walt’s father. And the old man used so much fertilizer that they ended up needing sixty feet of floating dock to get past the razor grass.

  Lucy snickered. “Serves him right.” Then she made some humming noises as she thought. “You know, I never considered landscape architecture as a possible field. I did keep up Grandmother’s garden at the old house in Ottawa and I think I did a decent job. Maybe I could see what I can do to help Ernie and Irene and this friend of yours. If I like the work, maybe I’ll look for some formal training.”

  “Can you draw?”

  “I don’t do it very often but I’m competent. Sometimes I need a sketch of a leaf or flower or mushroom so I can look it up later. Cameras can capture too much detail if you know what I mean.”

  John nodded then spoke. “If I can suggest something for your retreat…”

  “Don’t get grandiose ideas there, MacLeish.”

  “It’s a future sort of thing. I was wondering if a boardwalk through the swampy section near the lake would be useful. I know if I had a cottage there I’d like to have a combination gazebo and bird blind on the other side of the stream from the swimming hole where I could watch the ducks in the evening without getting mosquito bitten. Maybe with a small solar panel rig to provide lighting and a pretty little arched bridge over the stream?”

  Lucy tried to imagine what that would look like. “I think I know the perfect placement for something like that. And yes, a boardwalk through the soggy section from the trailer to the ridge would be nice. It might cut down on the amount of mud I’d have to wash off my daughter after swimming. Although I do have the outdoor shower on the back side of the trailer.” She hummed while she was thinking. “I might have to ask you to build me a shower enclosure there. The shower stall in the trailer is starting to get a bit awkward to use.”

  Lucy sat up straighter. “Do you think that Irene would want to come for lunch at the trailer next Saturday? I know that Ernie has the milking to do…”

  John said, “I’m pretty sure she’d enjoy that. So would the twins but how is Bruno with kids?”

  “He’s wonderful with kids. Adults not so much but he’s trained to regard kids as friends. If they get rough he just looks sad and walks away. But sometimes the kids get scared because he’s so big.”

  “Lissa might not like him but Henk thinks anything with four legs is a friend.”

  “Like Ruff?”

  “Exactly. But then collies love kids too.”

  John pulled into the long drive. “Well, here you are, Miss W.”

  “Thank you, John. It was a lovely day.”

  “Will I see you at church?”

  Lucy hesitated then said, “Yes. I wouldn’t want to disappoint Lily and Phyllis. And it will give me something to do other than worry about finding an apartment and childcare. Or dwell on the childbirth horror stories that the customers at the diner think are so amusing.”

  “I don’t know why everyone does that.” He turned off the engine and got out to open Lucy’s door.

  Lucy thought about hopping out before he got there but decided to allow John to be courtly and show his manners.

  John took Lucy’s hand to help her down and became aware that there was nothing to stop him from attempting a kiss. Except Bruno’s insistent head pushing his way in between them and licking his hand.

  “I think Bruno is attempting to preserve your virtue.” John reluctantly let go of Lucy’s hand.

  Lucy started to laugh and pointed at her bulge. She managed to croak the word, “Virtue?” Then, at the affronted look on John’s face in the porch light she began to really laugh.

  John wasn’t certain if he should laugh or not. Then, recognizing the innate absurdity of his statement he began to
laugh with her at himself.

  Bruno, unsure about their behaviour, left to examine the truck, overwriting Ruff’s territory markings as he went.

  Lucy, her laughter having subsided to a misty smile and a couple of tears, stepped forward and kissed John on the cheek. He wrapped her in a comforting hug and they stood there wordlessly for a while.

  John broke the hug and said, “Thanks for a lovely evening, Lucy.”

  “It was my pleasure, John.”

  “Don’t forget the beef and the leftover taboule.”

  Awkwardly, they each stood waiting for the other to move first. Finally, John leaned forward and gave Lucy a brief hug then turned around to fetch the leftovers. “Good night, Lucy.”

  “See you tomorrow, John.”

  Lucy turned quickly and shooed Bruno into the trailer with a quick wave to John.

  John returned the wave then started home.

  Chapter 15