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*13* Fruition
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2024-10-29 19:42:56*Grace*
I’m already exhausted after I seed the west acreage with the tow-behind broadcast spreader. It’s hot and I’m more than annoyed by the time I get the chain drag hooked behind the cultipacker so I can cover the seed.
I run the irrigation for one pass, grateful for the cooling mist, then check the electric fencing before I load everything back up and take the tractor home.
I wave to Rob on the roof as I come up the drive, admiring the sight of him, tan, sweaty and shirtless
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The Work of Grace *14* Plan
*Rob* I’m usually up at first light—what can I say? military habits die hard—and today is no exception. It is exceptional though because I wake tangled up with Grace, naked in a blanket, diagonal across her bed after the absolute best night I’ve spent in my life. I shift slowly, and she slides into a warm, wonderful, girly-smelling pool beside me, murmuring in her sleep before she flops over onto her side and snuggles her back against my chest.
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*Grace*I lose track of how many times Rob and I wake each other during the night and make love. I’m not complaining—he’s an exceptional lover, as attentive and generous in bed as he is outside it. Which is actually the problem. When I wake up, he’s not in bed with me anymore. I linger for a few minutes, hoping he’ll turn up with coffee that’ll get cold while we’re otherwise occupied like he did yesterday. Which is when I notice the faint hint of his body wash and know that he’s up for the day. I sit up in bed suddenly. His parents are here!Thrashing with the covers, I scramble out and rush into the bathroom. I clean up as quickly as I can, then dress. The door to Rob’s parents’ room is open and I grimace, hurrying downstairs. But there’s no one there. There’s no sign of anyone. The rich, dark scent of coffee is all I find. I peer over the café curtains and see both my truck and Rob’s black Miata. So they must be outside. Unable to resist, I fix myself a cup of coffee and head for
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*Rob*“I think we’re going to need another car.”“You mentioned. Last week.” Grace’s eyes meet mine, no small amount of amusement flashing in them as she adds a bit of sugar, a dash of salt and milk to the rest of the dry ingredients in the pancake batter I’m stirring.Catching her by the wrist before she can get away, I pull her to me, losing myself in her kiss until she breaks it off. “As I remember it, that conversation got derailed and never went anywhere.”“So it did,” Grace giggles, then pushes away from me, collecting ingredients to return to the pantry. “Might need to consider getting another truck first. Something that can haul more.” The words come muffled from around the corner.I wait until she’s visible again, returning with a jar of homemade blueberry syrup. “Speaking of needing to haul more,” I abandon my stirring and pull her to me, both arms wrapped around her narrow waist. “I haven’t been at all responsible,” I nuzzle the soft behind her ear, planting a tender kiss th
Last Updated : 2024-10-29The Work of Grace *17* Discoveries
*Grace* Before the front door is completely open, my nephew and niece are darting around it, racing through the dining room and kitchen then into the great room to crash into Rob’s delighted mother with childish squeals and elated laughter. “Miss Juuuunnnniiiieeee!” Ella follows more sedately though she’s smiling, happier and more relaxed than I’ve seen her in some time, and Dan brings up the rear, shaking hands with Rob behind me as he enters, then waving to Rob’s parents. “You absolutely can’t take June from me as an au pair,” Ella says. “My kids aren’t even that excited to see me.” “She’s definitely got a way with them.” Making a show of sniffing the air, Dan peers at me. “Whatever that is smells excellent.” Turning to wrap her arms around him and press a kiss into his chest, Ella smiles. “Th
Last Updated : 2024-10-29The Work of Grace *18* Fast Forward
*Grace* Though it’s taken a few days, we’ve got Ella mostly covered, I think, crossing replacement items she needed after the fire off my list. But my niece and nephew still need new clothes, especially with school starting soon. When the mudroom door opens, I look up from my perch on a stool at the kitchen bar, watching as Rob closes the door behind him. He fixes me with a beaming dimpled smile as he strides across the kitchen, planting a warm kiss on my forehead when he reaches my side. “It’s strangely quiet in here.” He peers around first the corner into the great room, then into the dining room, as if expecting the farmhouse to suddenly burst to life. “It is,” I groan contentedly at the blissful silence. “Your dad took the truck to the Village Mercantile to pick up more fungicide and fertilizer for the beets. Your mom and Ella are out shopping for school supplies and
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*Rob* Grace is still asleep when I wake. Though I’m immediately burdened with a fierce morning arousal catching the lingering scent of her shampoo in her hair and feeling her round firm bottom pressed into my hips, I lie still. It took some doing, lots of hard work with lots of help from my friends, their girlfriends, my parents and a generous smattering of folks from the community. Margie Gregor tapped a few friendly resources and secured us a cake that she paid for as a wedding gift. She also knew an amazing seamstress, who in four weeks, cranked out three bridesmaid dresses, faux-50s style with the full skirts, simple but elegant necklines, and short belted jackets that were what Grace’s grandmother’s bridesmaids wore, plus all the suits for the groom’s party, perfectly matched to those her grandfather and his brothers wore on their wedding, sixty years ago.
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*Grace* "Marshall Arsonist Arraigned in District Court on New Charges" by Margie Gregor "Paul Danvers, a 37-year-old Marshall man previously accused of criminal trespass, 1st Degree Arson, and resisting and obstructing a police officer now is charged in a separate incident with aggravated harassment. "Prosecutors say Mr. Danvers used a flare gun and a bottle of charcoal fluid to set fire to a residence on Delta Crossing over the July 4th holiday, causing significant damage to the home. “He planned to burn the property down,” the county District Attorney said in a statement Monday. “This was a premeditated act of arson directed at his estranged wife after brutal harassment of her over a period of weeks following her filing for separation.” "Monday's arraignment followed the ne
Last Updated : 2024-10-29The Work of Grace [21] Post Post-script
*Jack Mueller***Warning: sociopathic and narcissistic mentality**Might not think it, but there’s a lot of baggage people carry around. Even in a small town. Even one small as this one. Sure, I got my own too, but I make a point to settle myself and stay out of the politicking.Except in the case of Juliet Hammond. That was one I never could quite get past.Mostly because she never would let me.Everyone in these parts talks about Juliet like she was some sort of saint. And on the surface, she might have been, but the woman had a black and vindictive heart hidden inside that beautiful package. One she disguised expertly. One she used to turn things back on you quicker and more agile than a jackrabbit in whatever way that benefited her best— I have to give her credit for that.But I digress, and as I make my way on foot to the Hammond farm—well, I suppose now Grace’s married that Asian man, it’s not the Hammond farm anymore, real shame that that is—I try to forget that Juliet was the p
Last Updated : 2024-10-29
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The Work of Grace *45* Fine Points of Grace
*Rob*It's agonizing for me, but Margie decides to wait until after Dan and Ella return from their honeymoon before dropping by the farmhouse one blustery January day.As seems to always be her way, she arrives with a labeled storage box of the township's newspaper history that Dan carries for her while I help the aged woman up the veranda stairs to the door."Oh, well now," she says pleasantly, taking a seat on the sofa near Grace. "No wonder you're keeping to yourself and looking so content here. Rob's got you a nice fire built and the house toasty warm. Good for him."Grace flashes that gorgeous smile of hers, all the more beautiful because she carrying my children, tugging her lap blanket up over her rounded belly, and I frown. "Do you need another blanket, Grace? Are you warm enough?"Rolling her big ocean blue eyes, she
The Work of Grace *44* After-effects **trigger warning- multiple intense themes**
*Sam*The Nazis were responsible for many—innumerable—war crimes, many of which it was, unfortunately, my job to observe and secretly report to the Allies, before finally receiving orders to sabotage. Some of that was because available communications were not what they are now, but in part, it was because there was so—much.That I didn’t learn of research experiments, couldn’t stop them long before I was clearly commanded to, dogs my every day and will until the last one God gives me, and I’ve spent a great many of them trying to drown those memories in booze, exercise and work, prayer and loving care for Juliet and Julia, trying to attone for it.Having Juliet as an unwavering conscience is of small solace as I prepare the cold cellar around Junior—move visual distractions outside the close circle of light he’ll have over him,
The Work of Grace *43* Interlopers
*Juliet*With a contented sigh, I collapse against Sam’s chest, sweating despite the cold, heaving oxygen into my lungs.“I love you.” Sam’s panting whisper sounds as sapped as I feel, but pleasantly so, and his arms slide from where he held my thighs, over my back to cradle me against him. “I love you.”“I love you, Sam.”Time drifts in an exhausted haze, warm welcoming sleep wrapping its cloak of peace around us both, bidding us rest. Still kneeling on top of him, I relax heavily, his arms relaxing heavily over me in return. Every part of me still tingles faintly, absolutely satiated with the love we’ve made.Downstairs, the mantle clock chimes faintly, once—the half hour—though I have no idea which half hour that is and care even less.
The Work of Grace *42* Unknown
*Junior*I had no idea where I was going when I ran off after the trainman yelled at me. And frankly, I’m not all that certain I knew where I was anymore. I don’t remember even seeing Father Brennan’s house. Or the church. And I didn’t run through the cemetery or see the train tracks or the shops along Main Street. My head wasn’t particularly clear.
The Work of Grace *41* White-out
*Juliet*A gust of wind picks up my braid and sets my skirts clinging to my legs as Sam and I follow Julia and Ajax to the truck across the front lawn’s yellowed grass. Overhead, it drags at the last few dried leaves clinging to the bare maple branches, rustling them ominously. “Wind’s picked up,” I mention mildly.“And shifted direction,” Sam adds. “Julia, you’re too little for that. Wait for Mommy or me to open the door.” He jogs ahead and scooping our wayward daughter up around her middle with one arm, tucks her into a giggling squirming football carry, swinging her just a little wildly out of the way just so he can get a thrilled squeal out of her as he opens the driver's side door.Righting her on her small feet, he gives her a light smack on the bottom. “Now, you can get in. Ajax.” With a graceful bound,
The Work of Grace *40* Distractions
*Juliet*Yawning quietly, I snuggle under the covers against Sam’s broad warm back a few minutes longer, watching with disappointment as the creeping sunrise brightens our bedroom. The mere fact that he’s still asleep after dawn and after me, tells me more than I know he wants about how he felt going to bed last night. It was sign enough he blocked the stairs to keep Ajax upstairs with us, but when he went back down for his second pistol he usually keeps downstairs, it was a sure tell he was considerably worried. We'll both be chasing a nap later this afternoon.Catching the rancid musky odor was enough to relax me. I’m confident at this point it was some sort of stray animal that made its way along the house while we were at Stew and Alice’s to watch the Christmas specials, and I feel bad that Sam didn’t rest well over something as common out here as that.
The Work of Grace *39* Impending
*Juliet*Though it had come early with the whiteout squall Sam and I’d had on the Isle Royale, the winter started out like any other. Children and adults alike brought their snow gear out of the cedar chests and armoirs and prepared to salt the streets and sidewalks.Driving was a bit more treacherous, but we’re used to this inconvenience, and with Julia still at home another year before kindergarten, Sam and I had only rare occasion to leave home anyway, weekly for mass and once a month for groceries and pantry staples. And it wouldn’t be the winter season without a few cold-weather aggravations as far as we were concerned.True to his word, with nothing else to do on the farm, Sam tore our bathroom apart and built a fine vanity with double sinks and a GE Textolite countertop. He made a special trip to the city and brought home and installed shining
The Work of Grace *38* Dispossession
*Junior*Everybody in the township knows the original church, Our Lady of the Seven Sorrows, was build on the hill beyond the cemetery from where the historical building stands now. It was an actual log cabin structure—which, in the 1840s in a logging community, nobody’s surprised—and it burned a year after it was constructed. Naturally, since people don’t learn, another was erected on the same spot. That one made it ten years before it burned to the ground, but by that time, the township was firmly established and a wood frame structure was built where the current church stands.On the high ground location of the original site, a rectory and a barn was erected, and a parish priest was permanently assigned to the township by the Catholic diocese because by that time, this township was the largest of the four that intersect here. When the wood frame structure burned another de
The Work of Grace *37* Three Steps Back
*Sam*It’s frigid in the bathroom when I wake later, even with the steamer’s heating blowing with a soft whooshing through the vents. Beneath me, Juliet’s still fast asleep, mostly sheltered from the worst of the chill by my body and the thick pile of towels underneath us. I watch her for a peaceful moment, the relaxed line of her lush full mouth, the rise and fall of her chest, the gorgeous tumble of raven hair about her head.A single bright sterling strand peeks from among the silken darkness surrounding it—it’s the first gray hair I’ve seen on her head. Given our ages, it’s not a surprise in any capacity beyond I wonder what took it so long. I’ve been going gray since my late twenties.I blame Julia, even though she’s only four.With my entire body, not just the part directly impacted, I objec
