The Ridge Farm Summer

If

The house was dim and quiet this morning as the sunlight poured in through the windows in the kitchen. I sat there at the small table with my teacup and a piece of paper. The petals of the flowers were beginning to fall to the table’s surface. I was writing away, thanking Greg, Norma and Vivienne for the kindness of opening up their farm to the eight of us for the past two weeks. The photo session had been a success and it was so very humorous to watch it begin awkwardly and see how Freddie, Brian, John and Roger gradually eased into it. I slipped eight hundred pounds into Greg’s wallet that was lying on the kitchen counter and took his receipt book out of the cabinet. I wrote a receipt to John in my best disguised handwriting and discreetly tucked it underneath the flower vase. I didn’t do it for any praise or accolade. I did it because they were short eight hundred pounds and I didn’t want anyone to be embarrassed they way they always were when they were short money. The secret was safe with the flower vase.

 I continued writing, expressing how truly grateful we all were for their hospitality. I put my pen down and reached for my cigarettes that I had laid beside my pale blue compact of pills. I took one out and lit it as I stared at the mostly full paper. The flick of the lighter and the refrigerator’s ice machine kicking on were the only sounds in the kitchen this morning. I looked at the clock on the stove: 7:13. I puffed on my cigarette and looked around rather sentimentally. I then resumed my writing, closing the message: ‘Many thanks and much appreciation to you – Lydia. I sat back with my cigarette and took a drink of my tea. I could hear someone coming down the stairs as I sat there.

 “Hey. Hey, Lyd. What are you doin’? Why are you up so early, babe? Come on, come back to bed.” Roger came through the family room and into the kitchen to join me. He looked sleepy and as if he had just woken rather quickly. He came over to me and put his arms around me, leaning down and kissing me. “What are you doin’?” He asked me again quietly.

 “I didn’t want to wake you.” I said. Roger kissed me again.

 “You need to tell me when you can’t sleep.” He told me. I smiled. Roger was used to this sort of thing from me. He always knew how to get me back to sleep but when he was out like a light I never wanted to wake him.

 “I know…I just…you were so peacefully asleep.” I said as I watched Roger go to the kitchen and get a teacup, filling his cup from the stove. He walked over and sat down beside me, pulling his chair very close to me. “How did you sleep?” I asked him, putting my hand on his shoulder. Roger shook his head and took a sip of tea.

 “Really good.” Roger reached up and pulled a daisy out of the flower vase. He rolled it around in his fingers, examining it. “Can’t believe these two weeks are over. It went so fast.” Roger said. I agreed.

 “It really did. Did you enjoy our time here, sweetheart?” I asked of him, exhaling my cigarette. Roger looked at me very seriously as he began picking the petals off of the daisy. Roger reached for a cigarette. He took one out of the pack and lit it. I watched him as a worried look spread across his face. He exhaled a plume of smoke in front of him.

 “Lyd…” he started. Roger rested his hand on the table as smoke pummeled up from his cigarette. He looked over at me and took another puff. “Lyd…I…I need to know somethin’.” Roger picked up the daisy again, rotating it around between his fingers.

 “What’s wrong, sweetheart.” I moved my chair closer to him, putting my arm around him.

 “If…if we make it…I mean…if…if we really make it…” Roger paused and looked at the daisy, turning it continually. “I need to know that…that you’re gonna’ be here with me.” A look of concern was over his face. I exhaled my cigarette smoke and looked at him. I didn’t say anything for a moment. I just studied him.