Big Sky Dreams

Vivian - Chapter 3

Hints of spring gave way to true spring, and even though Vivian knew that there was always the chance of a late snowfall and freeze, she was eagerly anticipating getting the garden started.  She had poured over seed catalogs, tested the soil quality, and mapped out where she would plant everything in the garden space off the kitchen.  The previous year, they had arrived in Moss Agate Springs too late in the season to do anything more than build a fence, turn the dirt over, and mulch it for overwintering.  

Looking out over the garden area, she could hear the young hens clucking in the fixed-up chicken coop by the barn as they worked through their pecking order.  Soon, they would be laying and Vivian was looking forward to the fresh eggs everyday.  Sure, sometimes they would produce more than she could use, but that was what frittatas were for.  And the chicken manure would help with the garden as well.

Pulling out her phone, she called the number that had been on the board advertising free puppies.  She figured the batch that had been advertised were probably all given out, but there was the chance that there was something available.  Frowning as the call went to voicemail, again, she left a brief message.

"Hi, my name is Vivian, I saw your notice in the grocery store about puppies.  I know that was a while ago, but if you could let me know if you are going to have more, or if there is an older dog available, that would be great.  Please give me a call back at this number.  Have a great day!"

Frowning again at her phone, she shrugged.  If she was meant to bring a puppy home for the kids, then it would happen.  All the best pets were the ones that found you when you were least expecting it.

***

"No, George, that would put you out of compliance.  If you don't believe me, then please talk to your CPA about this.  It is my job to make sure that your books are as accurate as possible, especially when it comes to things that will affect your taxes."  Vivian's client grumbled in her ear for a bit longer, but after a couple more reassurances that she did know what she was doing and that she had indeed discussed the issue with his CPA, he relented and they got off the phone.  Heaving a huge sigh of relief, Vivian rolled her shoulders and posted the journal that would keep her clients books correct.  Sure, it affected his bottom line, but that is what happened when large purchases were made.  A bookkeeper could mitigate it only so much by moving the total cost into an asset account, but it was no longer her issue to deal with.

Vivian was proud of her little bookkeeping business.  With the help of her former employer, she had started with a few clients that he just couldn't justify keeping after his office expanded.  The clients were happy that they could stay with Vivian, and she was happy to take some of them off of her former bosses' plate as he nailed down his ideal client base.  And, for the most part, the clients were easy to work with and were happy with her services.  She had even picked up a couple more locally in Agate Moss.  She was able to set her own hours to work around the kids' schedule and her bank account was finally looking flush.  She was by no means rich, but she was grateful that she didn't need to count pennies when she was at the grocery store anymore.

But most of all, she was glad to be done with the anxiety, depression, and chronic fatigue that had plagued her for years.  Vivian had a lot of jumbled up feelings when it came to the 13 years she spent with her husband.  There had been some good times, some really good times, but then there had been a lot more not so good times.  There were plenty of times she had contemplated leaving, and wondered what her life would have looked like if she had left earlier.  But then, as she looked out of her office window over the acres and acres of her property, Vivian realized that she wouldn't have made it here, to this land, if she had left earlier.

When she was younger, Vivian used to live by que cera cera, whatever will be will be.  When she had first heard the bluesy song sung by Pink Martini, it had immediately resonated with her.  She would hum the melody to herself or say the phrase whenever something turned out differently than she had expected.  But then as the years passed with her husband, her thinking turned smaller, less hopeful, more towards surviving each day as she watched the months and years fly by, hating that she was turning so cynical, losing sight of the joy that each day could bring.

And one day she snapped.  Packed up the kids with no real place to go, announced that she was filing for divorce, and walked right out the door.

"Que cera, cera." She whispered to herself.  That had certainly not turned out the way she had expected.  But at the same time, she knew that his suicide was inevitable.  The darkness had clung to him like a second skin, shading everything in gray.  If there was an opposite to rose colored glasses, that's what he saw everything through.

Shaking off the maudlin thoughts, Vivian headed downstairs to get started on dinner.  The kids would be home from school soon and once they arrived, the controlled chaos that accompanied them would leave little time for her to get lost in thoughts of the past.

***

Vivian was snuggled up on the couch, reading a book and nursing a cup of tea when her phone buzzed.  Picking it up, she frowned at the unknown number, but then realized it was the one she had been calling about the puppies.

Clearing her throat, she answered. "Hello?"

"Uh, yeah, hi."  The grumbly male voice on the other end made her breath catch as goosebumps and chills shivered over her skin.  "You were calling me about puppies, but I think you have the wrong number."

"Oh, well, I'm sorry about that." She felt heat flood her face even though she knew she didn't have anything to be embarrassed about.  "I must have written the phone number down wrong that day.  It was on a flier at Helman's.  I figured it was a long shot, it looked like the flier had been there a while, but I guess I will have to look again when I am in town next.  Thank you for calling me back, though, to tell me.  I really appreciate it."

"Yeah.  You're welcome.  Have a good night."  Before she could respond, the line disconnected.  

"Good night to you, too, I guess."  Shaking her head, she put the phone down to continue reading.  But later that night, that voice definitely assisted her mechanical boyfriend in helping her release some tension.