Harvest Time 1947

Before actually getting started on dinner, while the babes were still napping, Kate took a moment to stroll around the flower garden. It still looked cheerful with yellow and orange mums in bloom, and a few clumps of purple asters here and there. Even the faded roses had a late-autumn loveliness to them. She’d have to trim them back a bit, get ready for winter. She let her hands graze the tops of the flowers, and then went back to the porch and sat in her rocker.

It felt good to get off her feet, and just take in the fall day. She pulled her sweater close. Definitely getting colder, and the wind had picked up. She looked over at the tree-lined creek – one of her favorite views – and watched the air fill with leaves.

A jumble of memories crossed her mind – how the kids had loved the tire swing over the creek when they were little. How Francy came home one day enraptured about a dragonfly that had kept him company as he swam. How her husband had cleared the banks where the creek was deepest and planted grass seed to make a nicer swimming hole. The few rare days when they had made time to enjoy a picnic on the banks. A sigh rose up from somewhere deep inside her.

Eugene came out to the porch. He had been reading the newspaper in the living room, but set it aside, disgusted at the ongoing world tensions. He noticed Kate and sat on the bench next to her rocker.

“You look sad, Mom.”

“Do I? Sad? No. Just thinking about things. Remembering when you were all little. And trying to keep up with the way things are now.”

He waited for her to say more.

“The world’s changing. I always had a clear vision of the future, with all my sons on the farm. And now? Francy, gone. Not a day goes by without my thinking of him. Missing him. Paul, wanting to be a mechanic. Settling in town. Ursula… It breaks my heart to see her sometimes. She’s increasingly resigned, increasingly isolated. Trying to create some order and beauty in her life while she waits, and waits. Picking up her school books, then putting them away again. Sometimes I see her staring at Frankie – she must wonder if he’ll ever see his father again.”

Kate shook away her thoughts and began lightly rocking. “Ah well. We must make the best of things. That’s all we can do.”

They sat in silence for a while, Eugene not one for words. He looked out at the horizon where the harvested fields met the sky – scudding white and gray clouds against the blue.

“Do you think the world is better, Mom?”

“Better? You mean because of the war? Of course I do! Things could have gone in a very different direction.” She watched him closely. “You don’t doubt that, do you?”

He shook his head. “No. But human nature hasn’t changed, has it?”

“Well, that’s a tall order, son. All we can do is change ourselves, for the better, every day.” When she saw that he seemed to agree, she nudged the conversation in a direction he never wanted to go in. “Your relationship with Edna, for example.”

Eugene, as she expected, was silent.

“You’ve got a gem in her. Edna’s a different kind of woman. Her experience has made her different. That’s what you fell in love with, as I recall – her strength, her passion and determination, her desire and capacity to help others.”

“That’s all true. But the downside is that – I can’t keep it to myself, can I? I thought I could, but it isn’t working. I realize I’ve been selfish, and going against what I believe in.”

Kate waited to see what he meant by that. She watched him closely, but he kept his eyes on the fields.

He spoke simply. “I’m thinking about letting Jimmy have the farm.”

Kate just about jumped out of the rocker. “What on earth are you talking about!”

“Hear me out, Mom. You know I never make snap decisions.”

“Your father would roll over in his grave to hear you. Give up the farm!” Her face had flushed pink and she grew agitated, her eyes darting around as she tried to take it in.

“I’ve given it a lot of thought. A lot. I want Edna to be happy. Like you said, she certainly deserves to be. I’m thinking about moving to Greenfield. The hospital there is three times what we have here.”

“And give up the farm! You can’t tell me Edna’s work as a nurse is more important than yours!”

Of all the things Eugene could have said, never – not for a single moment – could Kate have imagined that he would give up the farm. She couldn’t help but feel furious, betrayed, even. After everything she and her husband had worked so hard for –