Page 66 of The Hitchhikers
When they reached the house, the tractor was circling a dirt turnaround farther up the hill. It stopped when it was pointed in their direction and the RV was horizontal under the shade of some large maple trees.
William got off the tractor and spoke to Simon, who’d been waiting in the center of the turnaround. The women stood near the garage, which provided a small amount of relief from the sun. Bones had trotted over to the barn and was noisily drinking the horses’ water.
Simon slid under the RV to unhook the towrope, and William coiled it up.
After Simon had wiggled out and was back on his feet, he wiped his arm across his sweaty forehead, then rested his hands on his hips. He looked toward them.
“Wow. It’s hot as blazes out here.”
“Would you like to stay for a glass of iced tea?” Ruth said.
“We don’t want to be a bother, but I am parched,” Simon said.
Jenny stared at him. What was he doing? They needed to get back on the road. What would he want with these old people? She glanced at Alice, who’d gone pale.
“No bother at all,” William said. “We’d love to have the company.”
“That case, a glass of iced tea would be great.”
CHAPTER 24JENNY
Jenny was glad for the cooler air inside the house, but it didn’t help settle her nerves. They were sitting at an oval kitchen table and waiting for Ruth to finish mixing a pitcher of iced tea. The metal spoon clinked against the glass and blended with the sound of the fan in the corner.
Whoosh. Clink. Whoosh. Clink.
Alice was beside Jenny. Simon sat opposite, and William was at the head of the table with his back to the wall. Jenny could see into the living room. The front door was propped open, and a screen door covered the entrance. The floors were a dark wood, scuffed, and worn smooth through the center where they’d been walked on the most. When she’d tried to take her shoes off, Ruth had stopped her.
“It’s a farm, honey. We track in dirt all day long. I mop at the end of the night.”
William and Simon were talking about the tractor, which William had parked back under the carport before coming inside. It was old and rusted, but William didn’t want to buy a new one. He didn’t know how much longer they’d be able to stay on the farm. They had two sons and a daughter, but they’d all moved away. None of them wanted to be farmers.
Jenny thought about her mom’s parents. They were farmersand might have lived in a house like this one, with a colorful crocheted blanket on the back of the velour couch, lace doilies on the side tables. Books crowding a sagging shelf. A woodstove with a river-rock hearth to warm your feet on, and a kitchen that smelled of cinnamon-sugared apples and fresh bread.
Jenny couldn’t imagine her mother on a farm. She’d only ever complained about the long Saskatchewan winters, summers spent fending off blackflies, and how much she hated her parents. Though Jenny never knew why. Her mother preferred talking about how she’d danced on pointe by the time she was eleven and been chosen for the principal role inSwan Lakeby sixteen. She was going to move to the city and dance professionally, but then she’d gotten pregnant.
Jenny’s father would smile when he’d tell Jenny how he’d loved her mother since they were kids, but she wouldn’t go on a date until he got a job and a car. He’d always wanted a family and hadn’t minded getting married young. Her mother had different feelings. “Don’t throw away your dreams for a man,” she’d tell Jenny. “And for God’s sake don’t get pregnant.”
Her father would say that it had been a mutual decision to leave Saskatchewan and move to Vancouver. But Jenny knew that her dad had missed the prairie fields, the wide-open sky. It had all been for her mother. A consolation prize for losing out on the life she’d really wanted.
The memory made Jenny rest her hand on her belly. She didn’t want the baby to ever feel like she had been made to feel. Across the table, Simon and William were talking about how many animals lived on the farm. Five cows, one calf, two retired work horses, and around thirty chickens.
“You have a big piece of property,” Simon said. “Neighbors must be a long way off.”
Jenny had a bad feeling about that question. She felt Alice stiffen beside her too.
William nodded. “Got about fifty acres.”
Ruth brought the iced tea and glasses over to the table and poured them each one. She also set out small dessert plates and a plate heaped with cookies, then dropped into the chair across from William.
While Bones snored under the table, William peppered them with questions about their trip. He was amazed that the RV had air-conditioning.
“Only way we can keep things cool around here is if we put them in the basement.” He stamped his foot on the floor. “Got a hatch right here so I can get to my whiskey barrels.”
Ruth laughed. “William’s always brewing something down there.” She slid the cookies closer to Jenny. “Take one, dear. They’re blackberry oatmeal.”
Jenny added one to her plate and drank some of the iced tea. It was sweet and tart, refreshingly cold, but she couldn’t enjoy it. She didn’t like Simon pretending to be nice to these people. It made her think of how he was when they first met Tom and Alice.
Alice lifted her glass and took a few deep swallows. Ruth was staring at something on Alice’s arm, her mouth pursed.
