Sandra hadn’t realized how much stuff she had put away in storage until Craig opened the door to the unit. She literally had an entire apartment inside the concrete box. There was a complete five-piece bedroom set with padded headboard and footboard, a dinette set, sofa and love seat, coffee table, television, stereo and an assortment of dishes, linens, knick-knacks and wall décor. She remembered how proud she was when she bought each and every piece of furniture, having saved and swapped until she had just the right setup for her apartment. Now, she couldn’t even begin to think of what she would do with all of it. She didn’t need the money, thanks to her new husband, and didn’t relish the idea of a yard sale. Sitting outside in the hot sun while people sorted through all of her personal belongings, wasn’t her idea of a fun weekend.With a heavy sigh, she stood up from the center of the items she had been going through and straightened her back. She climbed across the sofa to the ent
“I’m sorry if my stuff appears to be junk to you,” she snapped, the sting of insult echoing through her voice. “Not all of us were born with a silver spoon in our mouth. Some of us actually had to work for what we have.” The tears fell down her cheeks unchecked as she turned and opened the door to the room, slamming it hard behind her as she left. Creighton called after her, but she refused to stop. She was too angry to speak to him or to listen. And to think she was worried he wouldn’t be there when she got back.Sandra ran to the side of the motel and down the dirt alley, behind the building to the familiar road that led toward the opposite end of town. She was confused and mad, though she wasn’t sure which was stronger. Creighton’s mood made her think he was having second thoughts about their marriage. Perhaps it wasn’t just the way she had blown up at him last night. Perhaps he was regretting getting her pregnant. He kept asking her how she felt about it. Maybe he was trying to c
“What’s the matter?” Papa asked from somewhere behind her.“Just take it easy, honey,” Nana said nearby. “Papa, get that bag out of the back, the one we brought with the bread and watermelon.” The sound of the back hatch opening and then closing sounded far away as the nausea took control of Sandra’s actions, yet within a few moments her grandmother was by her side, easing her down to the running board of the old Bronco.“Here,” she said, pushing a piece of homemade bread into Sandra’s hand. “Eat this, you’ll feel better.” Sandra obeyed and began nibbling on the chunk of bread as Creighton wiped the sweat off her brow with the handkerchief Papa handed him.“It will pass in a few minutes,” he told her gently. “What’s going on?” Papa asked. “What’s the matter with her?”“Oh Papa, can’t you guess?” Nana scolded. “She and Creighton have been together for two months. You add up the signs. The mood swings, the increased appetite, always tired, the nausea.”“Sandra!” her grandfather gasp
“But you still thought we had feelings for each other.”“Are you trying to start another argument?” he asked her with an amused frown creasing his brow.“Only if the making up is as good as this afternoon.” Creighton laughed as he pulled her closer to his side while they walked up to the table, they had left a short time ago. Nana and Papa smiled brightly as they approached, pushing the plate of homemade bread, pies and cookies in front of the two, before leaving with Craig and Nellie to get the barbeque. Creighton watched them leave then looked at his wife who was cutting the peach pie, placing two slices on paper plates for them.“You were trying to make me jealous as well,” he accused her. “Craig? He isn’t exactly your type.”“No, he’s Nellie’s type.”“I guess we still have a lot to learn about each other,” he said, watching as she dipped the spoon into the container of whipped cream and placing a dollop onto each piece of pie.“You can think of it this way. There’s a lot of fun,
“It was my dad’s,” she said. “I got my mom’s earrings and that case. Open it. I want you to have it.” Creighton wanted to push it aside and pull her to him, comforting the memories that danced on her delicate face, but instead he did as he was told and lifted the lid. Inside was a small keychain with a crystal hanging from the end, and inside the gem was a single grain of wheat, preserved for all eternity. He looked up at her and frowned.“My dad used to say that all it took was a single grain of hope to grow a life of love and happiness,” she told him, tears shining in her eyes. “That’s what I want you to have. A single grain of hope.”Creighton sat the case aside and stood up, pulling her against his warm chest, holding her tightly for several long moments. He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t begin to explain how much this simple gesture meant to him, or how much he needed to hear her say these things. When he pulled away, his eyes matched hers, both filled with unshed tears of
Papa drove the old Bronco into town, explaining to Creighton the ritual that took the farmers away from home on a daily basis. They pulled into a parking stall at the small restaurant where Creighton had taken Sandra every morning since arriving in Kansas. The parking lot was full of trucks and SUVs. Not like it usually was during the breakfast hours.“Gathering for coffee is a tradition,” Papa began as he shut off the engine. “We meet every morning, mid-morning and mid-afternoon to talk about the weather, crops, politics and just small-town gossip.”“Sounds interesting,” Creighton smiled as he closed the car door and walked into the restaurant. “Farmers typically meet at a local pub back home for the same reason.”He was surprised by the number of people who greeted him by name, as he took a seat with Papa at the same table where he had shared breakfast with his wife earlier that morning. He recognized several of them from the picnic the night before, and shared polite conversations
They washed up in the old sink before relaxing in the quiet old house. Creighton and Sandra had spent the better part of the next day inventorying the items in the barn and discussing what they should do with them. Papa and Nana had left a short time before. It was Papa’s bowling night and he usually met his team ahead of time for a few beers while Nana went to the local church to set up for bingo, leaving them alone in the house. Creighton was amazed at how life just seemed to go on. No further thought of the disaster that shook their lives the day before. It was one event he did not want to go through again, and one reason he was not allowing Sandra to be out of his sight.He looked around the kitchen as he leaned against the counter, drying his hands on a small towel. It really was a pleasant house, with a feeling of love and happiness that greeted anyone who entered it. He could imagine what it was like for Sandra to grow up here. It wasn’t much different than his own childhood ho
“The town hasn’t stopped talking about you and Nelson,” Michael said with a smile.“I’m sure Nelson will be the headliner for many weeks to come,” Creighton said, watching his young bride as she joined them.“How does it feel to be home?” Harold asked Sandra, taking an oatmeal raisin cookie from the plate in front of him. “It’s great, though my home is now in England.”“You’ll always be a child of two worlds,” Michael added, taking a cookie and biting into the soft, sweet treat. He looked up to Creighton and smiled again. “Are you ready to do business?”“Depends on what your commissioner says,” he replied. “And only if there have been no short cuts or special privileges offered.”“No sir,” Harold remarked, taking a drink of his coffee. “Your people had everythin’ in order before ya even arrived. All we had ta do was fill in the blanks and stamp our approval.”“Has it been approved?” Creighton asked, leaning back in his chair.“Like I said yesterday,” Michael stepped in. “You have tak