PART4

“Then why isn’t his name on the deed?”

She went quiet.

I continued.

“Brenda, I’ve lived here for forty-five years. You know that house was my father’s.”

“That doesn’t matter! Alden has worked his whole life!”

“And so have I.”

“Doing what? Delivering mail?”

I felt something inside me go still.

Thirty-one years.

Thirty-one years of driving those country roads in rain, snow, heat, and ice.

I’d delivered medicine to sick people, birthday cards to children, and sympathy letters to families who had lost someone.

I’d carried heavy packages up muddy driveways and walked through fields where dogs weren’t always friendly.

I knew every back road in that county.

I knew which old men lived alone and which widows needed someone to check on them.

And Brenda had reduced all of it to delivering mail.

“Yes, Brenda,” I said quietly. “Doing that. For thirty-one years.”

She sighed.

“You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“No. I’m finally standing up for myself.”

I hung up.

My hands were shaking now, but not from fear.

I went to the bedroom, closed the door, and slept better than I had in years.

The next morning, Alden was already in the kitchen when I came downstairs.

He had shaved, changed his shirt, and placed his paycheck beside my coffee cup.

He was wearing the expression he used when he wanted to pretend the previous evening hadn’t happened.

“Morning.”

“Morning.”

He tapped the check.

“I’ve been thinking.”

I poured my coffee.

“That’s good.”

“We need to straighten this out.”

I sat down.

“Go ahead.”

He took a breath.

“Look, maybe I got a little carried away with what I said about the paycheck.”

I waited.

“But you know how I am. I work hard. I don’t like coming home and finding strangers on my property.”

I stirred my coffee.

“They aren’t strangers. They’re our neighbors.”

“My neighbors don’t get to use my land.”

I didn’t correct him.

He leaned forward.

“Here’s what we’re going to do. You cancel that lease, and I’ll put your pension back into the joint account. We forget this happened.”

I looked at him.

“And what happens the next time you decide to close the account?”

He frowned.

“I won’t.”

“What happens when I need a new water heater?”

“I’ll handle it.”

“What happens when I want to buy something?”

“You ask me.”

There it was.

The same old arrangement, dressed up in a different shirt.

I put down my spoon.

“No, Alden.”

His jaw tightened.

“You really want to do this?”

“I think we’ve already done it.”

He stood up.

“Fine. Don’t come crying to me when you need something.”

I looked at the man I’d spent most of my adult life trying to please.

“I’ve been needing something for years, Alden.”

He waited.

“Respect.”

He didn’t say another word.

He grabbed his keys and left for the feed store.

That afternoon, Miriam came across the road carrying a covered dish.

She was a broad-shouldered woman with silver hair, strong hands, and the kind of laugh that could be heard from the other end of a church fellowship hall.

She set the dish on my counter.

“Chicken and dumplings,” she announced.

I laughed.

“I told Alden I wasn’t making any.”

“I know. I saw him stomping around your yard this morning.”

She took off her coat.

“How’d he take the papers?”

“Like a man who’d just discovered the world didn’t belong to him.”

Miriam chuckled.

Then she got serious.

“Joanne, there’s something I need to ask you.”

“What is it?”

She pulled out a chair.

“My husband and I have been talking. We don’t want to just rent your pasture.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?”

“We’d like to make a longer arrangement. Five years, if you’re willing. We’d pay you monthly, keep the fence maintained, and cover the water system.”

I thought about it.

Five years.

Five years of knowing the pasture would be cared for.

Five years of having money that came directly to me.

Five years of not having to ask Alden whether I could buy a pair of shoes.

“I’d consider that,” I said.

Miriam smiled.

“Good. There’s something else.”

She reached into her purse and pulled out a folded sheet of paper.

“My husband knows a fellow in town who repairs old houses. He said if your water heater is still giving you trouble, he’ll come take a look.”

I laughed softly.

“That old water heater has been threatening to quit for months.”

“Then let’s get it fixed.”

I looked at her.

“Thank you.”

Miriam reached across the table and squeezed my hand.

“Don’t thank me. You’d have done the same for me.”

I looked out the window.

Her goats were grazing in the pasture, moving slowly through the tall grass.

For the first time, the land looked alive again.

Two days later, Alden came home early.

I was sitting on the porch with Miriam, sorting through some papers.

His truck pulled into the driveway.

He climbed out and looked at Miriam.

Then he looked at the pasture.

Then at me.

“What is she doing here again?”

Miriam smiled.

“Enjoying the view.”

“This is between me and my wife.”

Miriam stood.

“Then perhaps you should speak to your wife like she’s a person.”

Alden’s face turned dark.

“Nobody asked you.”

“No,” Miriam replied. “But I’ve heard enough from across the road.”

She picked up her purse and walked home.

Alden waited until she was gone.

Then he came up the porch steps.

“Get your coat.”

I looked up.

“Why?”

“We’re going to the bank.”

“Why?”

“Because I want this fixed today.”

I folded the papers in my lap.

“Alden, I already fixed it.”

He pointed toward the driveway.

“Get in the truck.”

I didn’t move.

He stood there for several seconds.

Then he lowered his voice.

“Joanne, don’t make me say this twice.”

I looked at him.

“You’ve spent forty-five years saying everything twice, Alden. Once like a suggestion and once like an order.”

His mouth opened.

But before he could answer, his phone rang.

He glanced at the screen.

It was Brenda.

He answered.

“What?”

I couldn’t hear everything she said, but I heard his responses.

“No.”

“How much?”

“Since when?”

His expression changed.

He walked several steps away from the porch.

Then he came back.

“Joanne, did you take money out of our savings?”

I frowned.

“What savings?”

“The money in the account!”

I put down my papers.

“You closed the joint checking account. Remember?”

“I’m talking about the other money!”

I stared at him.

“Which other money?”

CONTINUE FOR NEXT PART5…