He always has to leave a heavy conversation on a light note. It is an endearing personality trait. Reagan gives him a nod and they go inside where the family is getting ready for a late lunch.
“They’re here, Grams,” Hannah calls to the dining room from her position in the kitchen at the stove. Whatever those two have been cooking all day smells heavenly.
“Everybody’s been waiting for you two,” Hannah explains to her and Grandpa.
“Just let us get washed up, Hannie,” Reagan offers as she kicks her Converse back onto the porch.
“Here, Grandpa. Grams had me boil water for your tools,” Hannah informs him. “She knew you’d need it. You can put them in here while we eat if you want.”
“Thank you, dear. You and your grandmother are the most efficient people I know. You could’ve run our government. Probably would’ve done a better job of it, too,” Grandpa tells her as she places a sweet kiss on his cheek.
“Yeah, maybe the world wouldn’t have gone to shit,” Reagan says and receives a slap to the back of the head from her sneaky grandmother, whom she hadn’t even heard come into the room. Kelly has also come in with Grams and is now laughing.
“You’d better get faster, Reagan. Or else quit swearing,” Kelly admonishes. When Grams turns her back and goes to her stove Reagan sucker punches him in the stomach, earning her a grunt.
“Go and wash up, young lady,” Grams orders her.
“Yes, ma’am,” Reagan sulks from the room. She uses the small half bath in the hall connecting the family room and the dining room to scrub her hands and arms. When she comes out, the family has convened to the dining room where they await Grandpa. Once he’s in the room, they have a word of prayer, making sure to mention the Reynolds family and begin eating.
Hannah and Grams have again managed to make a feast of a meal using almost exclusively items from the farm. There is crusty, homemade bread, blueberry jam, spaghetti with sauce from this year’s tomato and herb harvest, meatballs from the store of beef still in the freezer and a big salad with vegetables from the garden with an oil based dressing with fresh garlic from the onion patch. Reagan almost feels guilty sometimes eating like this. Most people out there are scrapping for what they can salvage from ravaged grocery store shelves or stealing from whomever they can.
“I’ve already set aside a plate for John, so you boys eat up. Especially you, Cory. Need to get some meat on those bones. And drink your milk. It’s good for you,” Grams advises sagely. The family drinks milk with every meal. It is free, available and a good source of calories.
“Yes, ma’am. I actually like drinking milk now. I used to drink soda with my meals, even at school. Mom didn’t let me drink energy drinks, but I did get my share of soda. I didn’t like milk at all. But this milk tastes different,” Cory tells her.
“That’s because it’s not watered down and pumped full of chemicals and the flavorings they started doing a few years back. Soda pop isn’t good for boys. That’s why you’re too skinny. Boys need milk,” Grams adds. Reagan just rolls her eyes. More of Grams’s unsolicited medical advice.
Reagan looks around at her family and extended family and reflects on how strange the last twenty-four hours have been. What a turmoil her family has been through. It must’ve been hard for Sue sending Derek back out into a battle after just getting him home and especially after the battered state that she’d gotten him back the last time. But to look at him now you’d never know he had almost died just a few short months ago. He is completely healed, getting stronger every day and eats like a horse. So does Kelly. They’ve abandoned their shyness recently and actually eat until they are full. Kelly’s plate is heaped with meatballs and spaghetti and salad, and he always drinks at least two glasses of milk at dinner time. All of the men are gaining bulk muscle, Cory included. Chopping firewood, milking cows, making hay and general life on a working farm tend to do that. It is good that they are bulking up, though. Her family will need these men to survive. It is hard for her to admit- and she sure as hell isn’t about to do so out loud- but they need them for the farm help, their protection and their strength.
“Reagan, you’ll take John a plate of food later,” Grandpa tells her decidedly.
“Ok. I’ll check him for fever and infection,” she answers. Reagan doesn’t miss the queer look that passes between Grandpa and Derek. Had she missed something?
“Right, check him for fever,” Derek says with a smirk. Reagan scowls at him. She doesn’t like being left out of loop. Damn, what had she missed? Why does Kelly chuff?
“We’ll have to postpone the trip to the city for a week or so because John will need to heal first,” Grandpa decides. “Unless either of you wants to go.”
“I’d rather not go, sir. I’m not as good a rider as John, and Derek should stay close to home. He has a new baby and responsibilities...” Kelly says but stops himself from saying the obvious of Derek having more to lose.
“No, I can go,” Derek interjects. Sue’s face is instantly strained.
Kelly jumps in, “Sir, you’ve got diaper duty.” Derek gives him a sharp look.
“It’s not a big deal, Derek. I’ll wait and go with John next week. Maybe at the end of the week,” Reagan says, and Sue is mollified.
“It’s settled then. When John awakens in the morning, I’ll discuss it with him, and we’ll set to making the plans,” Grandpa says. “Let him sleep a few hours and go in around eight tonight to check him. That will give him about five or six hours to sleep off that Demerol and get some rest.”
“The Reynolds family invited us to a memorial service that they would like to have for their parents and brother tomorrow at eleven,” Kelly tells everyone.
“It’s only right we go,” Grams says and Grandpa agrees. They are both deeply saddened by these losses.
“I’ll stay with the children and Cory,” Hannah volunteers.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for anyone to be here by themselves anymore. Not even for a short period like that,” Kelly counters her.
“I agree, Kelly,” Grandpa says as Derek nods in agreement.
“I’ll stay with Hannah and the kids,” Kelly offers kindly.
“I think that would be ok,” Grandpa says.
“So do I,” Derek says. Reagan remains quiet during the interaction. After the attack on the Reynolds’s farm, everyone needs to be on high alert, and the opinions of the men with military experience should be taken into consideration. “Starting tomorrow after we come back from the service I think we need to have a meeting about making changes around here. We don’t have time to wait for provisions from the city. We need to work with what we have here on the farm.”
“Right and tomorrow we can make some changes. John can show you how to make simple demolitions from what’s around here ‘cuz that was his specialty. And he was very... accomplished at his specialty,” Kelly explains to all of the adults. The kids, with the exception of Cory, are oblivious and busy talking at the other end of the table about the baby peeps in the big barn. They are always, thankfully, in their own little worlds.
It seems strange to hear people talking about John, and praising him for doing anything accomplished. He is such a surfer playboy type who is never serious about anything, always walking around with a dopey grin on his face. Last night he’d literally been like a whole different man, as if he could turn a switch and become a trained soldier.
“I can fortify that driveway, Herb,” Derek offers. “It got all uncovered and messed up when Billy came in yesterday. But I saw downed branches in the woods all along the drive that I can lay over the end and get it covered in again.”
“Yeah and we should dig barbed wire out of the barn and re-enforce it with that, too,” Reagan adds.
“Yep, sounds good,” Derek agrees.
“We have to get that part from the city to fix the other tractor. I don’t think there’s going to be a rush on tractor parts anymore, so John should be able to find it. If we don’t get it, then we’ll be harvesting that wheat by hand,” Grandpa says.
“Yes, sir. Maybe Cory and I should look into what we can make to use on that tractor from parts around here. We’re both pretty good at that. Just as a back-up plan. He likes messing around in the garage,” Kelly offers.
“That would be no problem with me, Kelly. Anything you boys can do to help with stuff around here just have at it. You don’t need my permission. Use whatever you need,” Grandpa offers. Reagan knows this is a big step for her grandfather. He’s always been so meticulous about his tools and things. But, then again, when someone is offering to do work that will help keep the family alive, one doesn’t have much choice in the matter.
“What about you, Maryanne?” Grandpa asks their grandmother. “Do you have everything you need for your canning?”
“Yes, we’re doing fine, more than fine. We’ve put up seventy-two jars of tomatoes and more than I can count in green beans, carrots, peppers and squash and the onions are now in the cold cellar. We’re about done with jams for the summer. Our sugar reserves are fine for now, but I think we’ll need to get honey next season. The apples will come in soon and so will the rest of the peaches. We’ll be able to get those cut and canned. We’ll show the kids how to make applesauce, and they can actually all work on that. The extra apples can go in the cold cellar, too,” she explains. To say that she is an expert at canning would be doing her a great injustice.
“We also have two bags of dried beans, fifty pounds each. Three bags, also fifty pounds each, of potatoes, as well. Oh and we finished twenty-two jars of Grandpa’s hot peppers,” Hannah adds cheerfully.
“Oh, well I sure appreciate them. Even if nobody else does,” Grandpa jokes. “They’ll put hair on your chests, boys.” Derek grimaces at the offer and shakes his head.
“Sounds good to me, sir. I used to like to eat at this Mexican restaurant when I’d visit my family and boy they could make some spicy food. Remember, Cory?” Kelly chimes in. Cory just nods in agreement.
“Then you’ll like these peppers. Grams has to wear rubber gloves just to handle them, and then she cans them in oil. They are so hot it’s crazy,” Hannah informs him with a big, cheerful smile.
“I’m not scared of a little old pepper, Miss Hannah,” Kelly says with machismo. Reagan groans.
“That corn out there is going to need harvested, too. It’ll be good if we can get it in so that the animals have corn this winter,” Grandpa says. “We’ve always borrowed equipment from the Reynolds for the field corn. But I do have antique corn machinery out in the machine shed if we need to use it instead.”
“Plus, I’ve noticed a ton of wild turkeys coming around the back of the pig barn in the early morning peckin’ at their grain, so I think me and John and Kelly could pick five or six them off and we could freeze them,” Derek says.
“Sounds good, Derek,” Grams adds excitedly. “We’ll have a proper Thanksgiving dinner this fall.”
“Soon we’ll need to start picking corn out of the garden, too. Grams and I can put that up, and we can also par boil it and freeze it,” Hannah adds in.
“I can do that, Hannah. I can pick it,” Cory offers quietly. He rarely says much, and everyone turns to stare at him which makes him self-conscious. Grandpa jumps in.
“Good, Cory. You can show the younger kids how to pick it and which ones are ready and what’s not. We staggered the planting this year, so the first three rows should be about ready. Then in a couple of weeks you pick the next three and so on. This way it gives the women a break and they can get on with other canning in between corn harvests.”
“Yes, sir. I can do it,” Cory affirms. He goes right back to eating his meatball, though, and refrains from speaking any more this meal. At least he’s starting to come around. Kelly gives him a smile that is almost returned.
“There is a lot to get done before the weather turns on us, so we need to make every day count. I also think that if you boys are any good at hunting deer, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to take two this fall when they are in their rut. We’ll butcher a cow; then we’ll bring the bull around to the heifer pens and let him cover them. We’ll have summer babies again to keep the herd going. Any of the chickens not laying any more we’ll need to butcher, too. Can’t afford to feed animals that aren’t producing. Hannah can be in charge of that,” Grandpa says.
“Sure, Grandpa,” Hannah says politely. Kelly looks at her again. Of course, lately Kelly is always looking at her. Reagan would like to know why.
The family finishes their meal, and each person helps to clear their own place setting, taking the dishes to the kids who are on KP duty. They never seem to complain about their chores, even doing the dishes. Maybe they, too, are happy for any small acts of normalcy.
When all of the evening chores are taken care of, Reagan descends to the basement with plates of heated leftovers for John. Her stethoscope hangs around her neck and in her pocket is a thermometer. When she enters his room as the last gray haze of dusk is coming through the small basement window. John has his back to her and is still asleep. Quietly, she places the tray on the nightstand, removes the thermometer from her pocket and sets it beside the tray. She looks at John’s bare back and shoulders, observing thin slivers of white scarring all over his bronzed skin. It makes her frown for some odd reason that she can’t, or doesn’t want to, understand.
How to wake him without having to touch his bare skin? Reagan pokes him once in the shoulder with her fingertip which she notices has dirt under the nail. Nothing, he doesn’t stir. Damn! She pokes two more times and still nothing. Finally she gives his shoulder a sturdy shake.
“Hey, wake up,” Reagan says softly. She doesn’t want to startle him and have him pull his new stitches. “John, wake up.”
He languorously rolls to his back and stretches then winces.
“Hey, beautiful,” he whispers hoarsely and yawns. She frowns at him.
“Ok, I can check that one off. Obviously the Demerol is still in effect,” she mumbles and gets a grin in return. “Lie still and let me check you.” Reagan sits gently on the bed beside him, letting her legs hang over the side. She is careful not to let her hip touch against his which is concealed under a sheet. She prays he has on clothing under there.