Patching Things Up
Saturday morning, Hope woke up resolved to go speak to Lola. The snow and cold weather, along with the early sunset, had kept her from venturing out into the countryside during the work week, but now that she had a day off, it was time to go deal with at least one of the two items she’d spent most every night worrying over well past the time she needed to go to sleep. Even if she didn’t end up going to Texas, at least she’d right the situation with her friend. Maybe then she’d get some rest.
The sun had made an appearance the day before, melting all of the snow, leaving rivulets of water that had refrozen the night before and were already beginning to melt again now that the sun had risen. Hope decided not to take the carriage through the slush and muddy roads. Instead, she saddled her horse, Pixie, and set on her way, bundled against the chill but happy to feel the sun on her face as she rode.
Lola and Ben only lived about three miles out of town. Their farm was near Aunt Margaret and Uncle Arthur’s land, though it was much smaller. Ben’s father had bought a parcel across from his parents’ and divided large sections of it out for his sons. Ben was the only one old enough to move out of the family house, since his younger brothers were only fifteen and twelve, but Ben was a good man and worked the land diligently. Hope had to admit she was a little jealous that Lola had made a life for herself out here, fairly independent from either one of their families. Perhaps it was silly of her to think Lola would still want her position in town. It would be rough, going back and forth every day, getting there before the sun came up and heading home while the sun was going down. While it would be nice to rely on her friend during a transition if Hope couldn’t wait to leave until the school year was over, she began to realize she was being silly deciding Lola was only thinking of herself when she’d suggested Hope look into the new school in Texas, despite the fact that Lola had wanted her position years ago when they’d finished their own schooling.
Pixie was named appropriately as she was a small white mare with a lustrous coat, and she stepped around the mud and potholes as best she could, trying to stay clean. Hope often teased her horse that she was a dainty lady, but she appreciated having her own ride just the same and thought she would certainly miss the old girl if she did move away. It’s not as if she could take her on a train, though images of sitting next to a horse in a train car were a good way to fill her time as she made the trip to Lola’s. She hoped her friend would be home, and she wouldn’t be interrupting anything. She was sure she wouldn’t be expected.
Tying the horse to the hitching post, Hope chose her footing carefully. Ice, mud, puddles of water, and even a bit of brown grass dotted the path, so she tried to stick to the grass as much as she could as she made her way to the porch. With a deep breath, she gave a hearty knock on the door and then waited.
Lola came to the door quickly, and when she pulled it open, her eyes widened and her mouth hung open a moment before she said, “Oh? Hope! I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I know. I came by to apologize. And to bring you this.” She handed over a loaf of pumpkin bread she’d made the night before. A pie might’ve been a better a gesture but much harder to transport in the conditions.
“Oh, Hope, you didn’t have to do that,” Lola said, taking the gift. “Won’t you come in?” She held the door open and stepped out of the way, and Hope gratefully stepped into the warm farmhouse.
It wasn’t large, just a small living room and kitchen on the bottom floor with a staircase that led to two quaint bedrooms upstairs, but Hope was proud of her friend for having her own place. She’d been there when all the neighbors came to help Ben build the house, and she’d been to the barn raising, too. At the time, Hope had let her mind wander to what it might be like to have that sort of a celebration for herself and some nameless, faceless man, but she’d let that particular dream fade away, thinking she didn’t want to be a farmer’s wife anyway. Sometimes she still wondered about the man, though, if he even existed.
Lola led her into the kitchen where Ben was sitting at the breakfast table sipping a cup of coffee. “Good morning, Hope,” he said, his tone giving away that he was surprised to see her, too. “What brings you by?”
“Good morning, Ben. I hope I’m not intruding. I just brought over a loaf of pumpkin bread, and I was hoping to have a chance to talk to Lola for a few minutes.” She held short of exclaiming she felt the need to apologize, but she was certain he knew everything that had transpired; Lola wasn’t exactly the sort to keep her feelings tucked in.
“Well, it sure is nice to see you,” he said, rising from the table. “You’re not intruding at all. But I have some animals to tend to.” He walked across the room and pecked the cheek of his wife, who was slicing the pumpkin bread, and then headed to the back door where his coat and hat were. He grabbed them both and stepped out onto the back porch to put them on, and Hope felt as if she’d run him out of his own kitchen.
“Ben’s got a lot of work to do today,” Lola explained, coming to the table with the bread. “Do you want some coffee?”
“That would be lovely,” Hope replied, shrugging out of her own coat and hanging it on the hook next to where Ben’s had been. She’d been here enough times to know it was just fine to act as if she were home, though Lola seemed slightly more formal than normal, likely because of the circumstances. Hope prayed her friend would be just as willing to clear the air as she was.
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