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Authors: Cecelia Dowdy

Milk Money (21 page)

BOOK: Milk Money
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She slid between her crisp, clean cotton sheets, and when she awakened the next morning, she knew what she had to do.

fourteen

The next day was Saturday, and after Emily milked her cows and did some errands, she showered and changed into her favorite blue jeans and red shirt.

She had already discovered the location of Frank’s new apartment from the gossip she’d heard through the church grapevine. She’d also heard that he volunteered every other Saturday at the rec center in a nearby town. She drove to his apartment building in Monkton, saying a silent prayer during the entire journey. She took a deep breath and knocked on his door, wondering if she should have called before traipsing to his apartment unannounced.

The rusty hinges creaked when the door swung open. “Emily!”

Emily clenched her hands together, staring at Frank. “Frank, I wanted to talk with you. I hope it’s all right.”

He smiled, stroking his beard. “Emily, you’re always welcome in my home. Come in.” She stepped into the living room, trying to ignore the clothes and newspapers scattered on the hardwood floor. A heavenly scent of tomatoes and spices spilled from the small kitchen. “What are you cooking?”

“Spaghetti and meatballs. I made some garlic bread, too.”

Surprised, she glanced into the kitchen before looking at Frank again. A disturbing thought fluttered through her mind. “You made all this for lunch?”

“Yes.”

“Are you expecting somebody?” Had she waited too long to give him an answer, and he’d already started dating? She noticed how the single women at church swarmed after Frank like bees to honey.

“No.”

“Then why did you make all this for lunch?”

He motioned toward the kitchen, not answering her question. “I’m getting ready to eat right now if you’re interested.” He caressed her with his dark brown eyes, and her heart thudded. When her tummy rumbled, he chuckled. “You still haven’t changed. I see you still have a noisy stomach.”

She chuckled, and he led her into the kitchen and pulled out a chair for her. She sat, and he served up plates of spaghetti and meatballs, salad, and garlic bread. “I’ve missed having home-cooked food since Laura’s been gone.”

Frank nodded. “I can understand that. Have you heard from her?”

“We call each other regularly. She sounds happy, and I think she’s glad that she’s growing closer to her daughter and her grandchildren.” Frank took her hand and bowed his head. In his deep, strong voice, he thanked the Lord for their food. Emily said amen and squeezed his hand. She took a bite of the food and moaned. “Oh my!”

“What’s the matter?”

She licked her lips, taking another bite of spaghetti before sampling the crunchy garlic bread. “This is the best spaghetti I’ve ever had.” She sampled more food. “Mmm. This garlic bread is excellent!”

He laughed, watching her eat. “I’m glad you like it so much.”

“I can’t believe you made all this yourself.”

“I don’t use spaghetti sauce out of a jar. I make my own, and I made the garlic bread myself, too.”

“You cook?” She looked at him, and she felt as if she was seeing a new Frank, a different Frank from the way he was eight months ago.

“Yes, I cook.”

“But when I went to your old apartment, you had pizza boxes and empty take-out containers all over the room. I thought you didn’t know how to cook.”

They ate in silence, enjoying their meal. When they were finished, they took their lemonade into the living room, and Frank invited her to sit. “I’m glad you came by. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

She sat on the expensive leather couch. “Good, I wanted to talk to you, too.”

“You were asking about my cooking earlier?”

“Yes.”

“Well, cooking is something I used to do all the time before Julie died. When she died, I started drinking, and I just stopped doing the things I loved, like cooking and working out.” He sipped his lemonade. “I was so bitter and angry that the only thing that brought me pleasure was alcohol. You know when I left you for six months and my dad died?”

She nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“Well, I was a real mess back then.”

“I know, you told me that.”

“No, I didn’t tell you how bad of a mess I was. When my dad died, I was so afraid that I was going to start drinking again that I took a month-long leave of absence from work. Even though I was saved, the urge to drink consumed me so much that I went to a medical doctor, and he had to give me medicine to help with my cravings.”

She touched his arm. “Are you still on the medicine?”

“No, I stopped taking it a few months before I decided to come back here. But I was off work for a whole month, helping my mother out and just straightening out my life. There’s an alcoholic support group that meets each day in Chicago. It’s not always the same people, but I made sure I was there every day. Being with the other members helped me stay sober. I read my Bible like crazy. I was drinking in the Word, and I had so many questions about the scriptures. My church in Chicago was awesome, and they answered all my questions about God and the Bible. I found that I had a lot of learning to do.” He pointed toward his Bible. “I don’t think I could’ve made it through this whole ordeal if it weren’t for God.”

He paused for a moment, then said softly, “You know, Emily, I love reading the scriptures. There’s so much wisdom between those pages.” He looked toward the window for a minute, as if thinking of what he should say. “Anyway, during my absence, I learned that I not only had to continue placing my faith in God, but I also had to get into the things that brought me pleasure.”

“Like cooking?”

He squeezed her hand. “Yes, like cooking. It’s something to do to keep my mind off drinking.”

“Do you still have the urge to drink?”

He looked at her. “Honey, the urge to drink never goes away; you just have to learn to be strong and not act on it. It’s scary thinking about not ever having another drink, but you have to take it one day at a time.”

She blew air through her lips. “I didn’t realize that.”

“I had to let you know all this. I’d still like us to get to know each other again. I’m different now.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I think I’d like to give us a chance. I wondered if we could get to know each other as friends again.”

His lips touched her nose. “I’m too attracted to you to be just your friend, but I’d like to spend time with you again.”

She smiled at him. “I’m attracted to you, too. And I have an admission of my own to make.”

He chuckled. “What’s that?”

“I’m a lousy cook.”

He laughed. “I know. You told me that when I first met you. Maybe my cooking skills will balance everything out between us.”

She smiled. “Yes, maybe your cooking skills will balance everything out.”

During the next few months, Frank continued to struggle with his decision to ask Emily to marry him. Even though they were getting to know each other better, he still faltered as far as his alcoholism was concerned. It was a daily struggle, and he prayed each day for the strength to let go and trust himself and believe in the Lord enough to trust his decision to marry Emily.

As he got to know Emily again, he found his love for her grew as the days passed. Since Laura was gone, Emily was out at the farm alone, and he often worried about her living by herself in the country, running the farm solo. He visited often after work, and he realized she wasn’t kidding when she said she couldn’t cook. His frequent late-evening visits often included takeout. Sometimes in the evenings, while she was in the barn milking the cows, he’d stop at the grocery store to buy food to make dinner for her.

He knew he had really fallen hard for her when he arrived unexpectedly at five in the morning on a Saturday. He’d worn his oldest clothing and a pair of battered sneakers. After parking in the driveway, he traipsed to the familiar barn. The cows were chained in their stalls, eating their piles of food. He recalled Emily telling him about the corn, soybeans, and alfalfa they grew to make feed for the cows. A clear liquid squished through the pipes, and Frank found Emily in the room where the milk tank and sink were located. “Frank!” Her eyes shone with delight as they embraced. “What are you doing here?”

“I know you like having somebody to help you milk the cows, so I came to give you a hand.” Since Emily had been milking the cows most of her life, he figured he’d be more of a hindrance than a help. But he was determined to learn how to milk so he could help her eventually. He gestured toward the sink. “What are you doing?”

She explained that she was cleaning the pipes and the equipment with an acid and water solution before she started milking. He washed his hands before he followed her as she went into the barn carrying the mobile milking units. She gave him a pair of gloves, patiently explaining how she cleaned the udders of each cow using an iodine dipper. She left and returned with a steaming bucket of liquid. “I could have carried that in here for you,” he said.

She smiled, patiently explaining he could carry it next time if he came back to milk again. Since he felt so uneasy cleaning the teats and udders of each cow and attaching the units, Emily ended up doing most of the milking herself. Nevertheless, it felt good to be out in the barn with her, watching her do the chores. He found that he was a better help once the cows were milked. She pushed a cart full of feed and handed him a shovel. “After milking we feed the cows grain, soybeans, and corn feed.” She told him what to do. “Just shovel some in front of each stall. After they’re done, we need to let them out to graze a bit. I’m going to clean the milking equipment.” As he shoveled feed, he glanced at the pipes, noting that clear liquid again swished through them as Emily did her cleanup. Once they’d cleaned the floor and let the cows out, he followed her to the porch. She removed her barn boots, and he took off his shoes, wiggling his toes.

“Thanks for helping me this morning, Frank.”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure if I was much help.”

She touched his arm. “You were a big help.” When they’d washed up, Frank made bacon, eggs, and toast for breakfast. Once he said grace over their meal and they were eating, Emily told him something. “My sister, Sarah, called me last night.”

“Did she want money?”

“Yes.”

“How much did she want?”

“She said she needed two hundred dollars to pay her phone bill. If she doesn’t pay it soon, they’re going to turn her phone off.”

“Are you going to give it to her?”

Emily shrugged. “I don’t know. I told her I’d have to think and pray about it. I said I’d call her back in a couple of days to let her know what I’d decided to do.” She sipped her juice. “Have you spoken to your mother lately?”

He sighed, spreading butter and jelly on his toast. “Yes.”

“How is she doing?”

“She’s doing okay.” He didn’t bother to mention that his mother had not been vocal about his dating life in a long time. He still wasn’t sure if she was learning to accept his choices or if she had more pressing things on her mind. “Trish spends time with her every week, so I’m glad about that.”

“How are the kids doing?”

“They’re doing fine. Next month is Regina’s birthday. I’m flying up to Chicago for that.” He stopped eating and took her hand. “I’d like for you to come with me if you can get somebody to do the milking for you.”

“I’d love to come with you, Frank, but I can’t make any promises. I’ll see if I can find somebody to do the chores for me the weekend of the party.”

They continued to eat in silence for a few minutes before he mentioned he was going to the rec center later on. “You know, I didn’t realize how much I missed spending time with young people until I started doing it again.”

“Yeah, I can tell you enjoy it. It’s nice of you to spend time mentoring the kids at the center.” After a few moments, she touched his arm. “I enjoyed having you with me this morning to milk the cows. It was nice.”

He took her hand, squeezing her fingers. “I enjoyed doing it with you. Is it okay if I come and help you milk on the weekends?”

Emily returned his squeeze. “Yes, I’d like that very much.”

Later that day, Frank found a store in Monkton that sold barn boots. When he returned to Emily’s for the next milking, he brought his new footwear with him. He left his new barn boots at Emily’s, placing them right beside hers.

BOOK: Milk Money
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