Chapter Four
Whitaker family meetings were reserved for important family events. Dad’s will. Mom’s care. Their trusts. They weren’t typically called to discuss individual life events, but the day after Molly had summoned her to Fairwind Farm, Beth decided to call their oldest brother, Ben, to get everything out in the open.
Ben rarely made it back to Willow Grove. After his career in professional baseball had ended, he’d made a life in the city—and he didn’t like the attention he got when he was home. But this was an emergency, and Beth needed his support.
“Is it too much to hope you’ve called this meeting to tell me you’re in on my new plan?” Molly’s eyes practically sparkled with expectation.
“I told you it wasn’t likely I’d change my mind.” Beth pulled two cans of beans from the cupboard.
Molly stared at her sister. “Why do I feel like you tattled on me?”
“I didn’t tattle, Molly. I just thought it would be good to have Ben’s input.”
“And mine.” Their mom sat at the table with an afghan over her legs, knitting another scarf. As if the fourteen in the other room weren’t enough.
“I’m getting a head start on Christmas,” Lilian had said when Beth noted the pile of scarves she’d amassed these last few months. Beth was pretty sure her mother didn’t know fourteen people who would wear a hand-knitted scarf, but Beth wasn’t going to be the one to tell her.
“What’s the big deal? We haven’t all been together in weeks. It’ll be good to catch up.” Beth knew they would all see through her excuse, but she pretended the words were satisfactory.
“How’d she even get you here, Ben?” Molly popped an olive into her mouth.
“She promised me a home-cooked meal.” He leaned against the counter, arms folded midtorso.
“You don’t look like you’ve been starving lately.” Molly dunked a baby carrot in the dip and crunched it in half. She was right. Their brother had always looked like he’d stepped out of a Calvin Klein ad, but he looked older and more filled out now.
“Ben, can you go start the grill?” Beth pulled five burger patties from the refrigerator.
“You never said I was going to have to cook the meal.” He didn’t move.
Dad had always manned the grill.
Silence hung in the air, as if they’d all remembered at the same time. Ben gave one quick nod, then strode through the kitchen and out onto the patio.
“Can’t believe you’re getting Mom and Ben involved in this.” Molly sat on a stool on the other side of the counter.
“This concerns everyone, Molly.”
“Hardly. You just want to bulldoze my idea.”
Beth ignored her. She’d called Ben yesterday on her way home from the farm and filled him in, hoping he could talk some sense into their sister. The two of them had always had a special bond. If anyone could get through to Molly, it was Ben.
Beth put together a salad and a dish of baked beans while Ben grilled burgers and Molly sulked. Their mom hummed to herself quietly, knitting away as if she had nothing else to do.
When Ben returned with the cooked burgers, they gathered at the kitchen table.
“Is your boyfriend coming?” He raised an eyebrow as he peered down at Molly.
“If you’re referring to Bishop, no. He’s working. And he’s not my boyfriend.”
Bishop had been Molly’s best friend since grade school, with the exception of a small separation somewhere around junior high when they each realized, as if for the first time, that they weren’t the same gender. He now worked at the Willow Grove Police Station, where Molly’s VW Bug was frequently seen in the parking lot. Everyone knew it wasn’t a matter of if but when the two would get together—everyone, it seemed, except the couple in question.
Molly moved from her stool to the chair next to their mom and shot Ben an annoyed look.
“Uh-huh.” Ben looked to Beth to join him, but she couldn’t get on board with teasing Molly about her denial of Bishop’s feelings for her—or hers for him, for that matter. She just wanted to talk through Molly’s latest disaster of an idea and come up with a plan to make it go away.
They said grace, filled their plates and tried to pretend the silence wasn’t awkward.
“Well?” Molly glared at Beth. “You called this meeting, so let’s get it over with.”
“Don’t be like that.” Beth wished there was a good way to tell someone they’d just made another terrible mistake. It seemed to be a pattern with Molly, and Beth always seemed to be the one who had to point it out.
Molly looked away. “It’s a good investment, Beth.” She glanced at their mother, who ate smaller bites now. “Tell her, Mom.”
Lilian held both hands up. “I don’t pretend to understand anything about investments. But I did think it was an interesting idea.”
“It is an interesting idea,” Ben said. “But it’s not very practical.”
“Thank you.” Beth knew she could count on him.
“But you agree it’s interesting.” Molly took a bite of her burger. Leave it to her to hear only what she wanted to hear.
“But not practical,” Beth said. “That’s the point.”
“Practical isn’t always best,” their mother said.
“You don’t really support this idea, Mom.”
“I just said it was interesting. And I can tell you that when your dad started his business, his parents told him he wasn’t being practical either.”
“I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” Beth said. Why was their mom encouraging this? “Do you know what kind of debt you’re getting into?”
“Well, that’s my business, isn’t it?” Molly dropped her fork on her plate with a clank.
“And now it’s mine. Because you’re asking for my help.”
“Fine, Beth. I won’t ask for your help, but if you’d shut up and listen to me for five seconds, you’d know this is a good investment.”
Ben glanced at Beth but didn’t say anything.
Beth set her fork down. “Fine. I’m listening.”
“Maybe you should start with what possessed you to buy the farm in the first place.” Ben piled a second burger with tomatoes, onions, lettuce and pickles.
Molly frowned. “Are you kidding? When I heard about Mr. Pendergast, I felt something go off inside me. Like, finally! The thing I’d been waiting for was right in front of me.”
“You’ve been waiting for the man to die?” Beth took a drink of her lemonade.
“You know what I mean. I’ve tried to get excited about hundreds of business ideas—this is the only one that’s got me completely jazzed.”
“I seem to remember you being pretty jazzed about the mobile-dog-grooming business.” Ben wiped his mouth with his napkin.
“And the frozen yogurt café,” their mom added.
“And massage therapy school,” Beth said.
Molly stared at them, that wounded-animal look on her face.
They did this sometimes—pointed out Molly’s mistakes. Laughed at her expense. Nobody ever meant to be hurtful, but Beth could see by her sister’s expression that they had been.
She expected her to push her chair away from the table, throw her napkin on her plate and storm off. That was classic Molly.
But she didn’t. Instead, she drew in a deep breath and leveled her gaze at Beth. “I knew Old Man Pendergast didn’t have any family left, so that meant Fairwind was going to go up for auction. I went to the bank and talked to Jerry. He looked over my financials and said with the right down payment, they’d approve me for the loan.”
“Jerry Harris?” Beth asked. “That’s how you got the loan?”
“So?” Molly steeled her jaw.
“He would give you his kidney if you asked, Molly. He’s been in love with you since the eighth grade.”
“That doesn’t mean he didn’t think this was a viable business option. He couldn’t have given me the loan if I was too much of a risk.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself.
“So you got the loan and then what?” Clearly Ben had no interest in the drama of the thing.
“I went to the auction. It wasn’t as exciting as I thought it would be. Not many people, and I didn’t even get one of those little paddles. I knew how much I had to spend, so I put my bid in, and I got it.”
“Just like that,” Beth said. Maybe now their mother would see the problem.
“Just like that.” Molly grinned. “Like it was meant to be.”
Oh, Molly, always superstitious and never sensible.
Beth waited for her to go on. Waited for Ben to respond. Waited for Mom to add her two cents. When none of those things happened, Beth searched for something to say. She admired Molly’s intention—it would be wonderful for their community to bring Fairwind back to life. But she couldn’t pretend she thought this was a good idea. Especially for someone who lacked both the business and the physical skills to be successful.
“Say something.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Mol. I’m sure there’s a way we can you get out of the contract.”
Molly’s face fell. “I already told you I don’t want out. This is what I’m supposed to do. I can feel it.”
“You can feel it?” Beth shook her head.
“Yes, Ice Queen. If you had any emotions, you’d know what that meant.” She threw her napkin onto her plate of half-eaten food.
“Molly,” their mother warned.
It stung, that particular insult. Beth did her best to ignore it, despite the fact that it threatened to open an old wound. “I’m not going to apologize for having my head screwed on straight.”
“And I’m not going to apologize for having feelings,” Molly snapped.
“Well, your feelings have done nothing but get you into trouble—and this is your worst idea yet. I don’t think you have any clue what you’ve gotten yourself into.”
Molly looked at their mom and raised her eyebrows. “Told you.”
Beth’s eyes darted to her mother. “Told her what?”
“That this is how you’d react. She actually argued with me. Said maybe you’d surprise us. But of course this is what you’d say—you’re always finding ways to shoot down my ideas.”
With good reason.
Lilian folded her hands in her lap. “Girls, please. You know I hate it when you argue.”
Beth glanced at their mom, the memory of her stroke flooding her mind. Beth didn’t approve of Molly’s plan, but she had to keep it together—for their mother’s sake.
“I said I thought the idea was interesting, and I do,” Lilian said. “I hadn’t thought of including Ben, but that’s just brilliant.”
Ben nearly choked on his burger. Maybe now Beth would get a little support.
“It is, Ben,” Molly said. “You are a landscape architect, after all.”
Beth shook her head. “Why would you think I’d have any other reaction to all of this than the one I’m having?”
Their mother’s face fell. “It’s like I told you before, Beth. You just don’t seem very happy. And you haven’t for a long time.”
Molly glanced at Beth. “See? I’m not the only one who thinks so.”
“So you guys have been talking about this?”
“No, of course not,” their mom said.
“I think you like it here, but I don’t think you like your job,” Molly said. “And maybe you just need someone to tell you there’s no shame in not wanting to move to Chicago and have some big, fancy life like Michael.”
Beth shifted at the mention of his name—a name that still held far too much power over her. It had been six years since she’d left Michael, and she still nursed her broken heart. The really sad part was, if she hadn’t caught him that day, she’d probably still be with him, waiting for the ring, the wedding, the big, overpriced house.
In some ways, she still was. Waiting for her life to begin.
But she didn’t like being reminded of it. At all.
“We can do this together.” Molly smiled. “It’ll be fun.”
Beth met her sister’s eyes. “And that is the problem. You think this is going to be fun.”
“What? It could be.” She dropped her napkin on her plate and stood.
“It’s going to be expensive and hard and frustrating. Do you know anything about running a farm?”
“Well, it’s not a real farm. It’s not like I’m going to be milking cows at dawn or something, though I would like to get a pair of wellies. You know those rubber boots you wear in the mud?” Molly walked to the window and stared out across their parents’ backyard. “It’ll be like it was, you know, when we were kids.”
Beth could see the sadness in her sister’s hunched shoulders. None of them talked about it much, but they all missed their dad. He’d always had a way of pulling them together. Beth understood the desire to put everything back the way it used to be, but despite what Molly thought, Beth didn’t crave the simple life. She’d fallen into it by accident—and, she supposed, had never found the courage to leave.
But Molly? She didn’t seem to have any plans for something more. Ever. She was a hopeless romantic—and her perfect love stories were always set in their small midwestern town.
Beth met her sister at the window and followed Molly’s gaze to the old oak tree in the backyard. The lonely tire swing hung below, moving ever so slightly in the spring breeze. How many days had they spent out in that yard, waiting for their dad to come home and push them on that swing? He’d make up silly songs while he pushed, and their mom would watch from the porch. It was like something out of another time, as if the world outside Willow Grove had moved forward and they’d all stayed happily rooted in the past.
“Molly, I know you’re looking for your place, trying to figure out how to spend the rest of your life, and I’m not trying to discourage you from doing that.”
“Aren’t you?” Molly turned to her. “You hated the idea before I got the words out of my mouth. You won’t even consider that this could be exactly what we’ve been waiting for.”
Beth shook her head and stared at the swing. “I haven’t been waiting for anything except for Mom to get better.”
Molly wrapped her arms around herself. “Then go, Beth. Go to Chicago and find your own impressive job and make a ton of money. Tell me that’s really what you want.”
“I didn’t say that’s what I wanted.” Beth could feel her jaw tighten. It was, though, wasn’t it? Or maybe not what she wanted, but what she thought she should do. Yet she couldn’t—and she would never tell Molly why.
She stared at her sister for a few long moments, and then Molly grabbed her jacket from the back of the chair and sighed. “I should’ve known better than to tell you. You’ve always been the first one to throw cold water on my dreams.”
Beth spun around, but her sister was already gone.
Ben stood. “I’ll get her.”
“Be kind to her,” their mother said as he left.
Beth met her mom’s eyes—eyes that challenged her. Eyes filled with an emotion Beth couldn’t quite place. Disappointment?
“She is so dramatic.” Beth shook her head and sat back down. From her mother’s pursed lips and raised eyebrows across the way, Beth could tell she had words. “Fine. What are you thinking?”
Her mom’s thin lips drew into a knowing smile. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Please. Your face says it all.”
Her gaze fell to her mom’s lap, where two small, feeble hands Beth hardly recognized rested. Everything about her mother seemed frail, in spite of Dr. Berry’s claims of recovery.
“Molly is too impulsive,” Lilian said.
Beth scoffed. “That’s an understatement.”
“But you are too pragmatic.”
Beth shifted. “Really? I didn’t know there was such a thing.”
“I worry about you, Beth.” Her mom inched forward, each movement slow.
“Of all of your children, I’m the one you need to worry about least.” Beth stood, waiting as her mom struggled to get to the edge of her seat. “Where are we going here?”
“Up. Out. Away from the chair.” She grabbed Beth’s arms and did her best to lift herself up, but she needed help—more help than she should if she was going to live on her own again.
“Do you want to walk around the block?” It was their usual evening stroll. Her mom hadn’t done it unassisted since the stroke, and she still got winded before they circled back to their driveway.
“Sure. Let’s do that.” She took Beth’s arm.
Another reason to do what was smart—their mother needed stability right now. Beth couldn’t dive into Fairwind Farm any more than she could dive into a job search in Chicago.
Still, so much time had already passed. Did she really want to waste another year in Willow Grove?
I was made for more than this.
The words nagged at her, unwanted. She dismissed them, wishing for a fleeting moment that the little things could keep her content. Wishing, she realized, for just a smidge of Molly’s optimism.
Outside, the evening had turned brisk, as spring in Illinois often could. The sun had started its descent, and a chill was in the air. Still, it felt good to inhale spring after too many months of winter.
Lilian wove her arm through Beth’s and clung to her with both hands as they shuffled down the driveway and away from the house. Beth had been taught to move quickly—to walk quickly, work quickly—but she’d grown accustomed to moving at her mother’s pace.
“Are you going to tell me what you’re thinking?” Beth asked, not sure she wanted to know.
“What makes you think I’m thinking something?”
“You’re always thinking something.” Beth glanced at her mom, who kept her gaze on the tree-lined road in front of them.
“Yes, but telling you what I think doesn’t usually result in the outcome I’m hoping for. You’re too much of an independent thinker. You like to have your own ideas. As soon as someone tells you what they think you should do, you do the opposite just on principle. Your father was the same way.”
Beth didn’t deny it. She didn’t like being told what to do. Still, for some reason, she wanted her mother’s opinion.
“You don’t think this is the stupidest thing she’s ever done?”
“Darling daughter, you forget the time your sister walked through the automatic car wash.”
Beth laughed. “Okay, the second stupidest.”
Her mom squeezed her arm. “I think on her own, she can’t make this happen. A farm is a lot of work, especially one that’s also a tourist attraction.”
“Right. And an apple orchard, retail store and pumpkin patch. What is she thinking?”
“You didn’t let me finish.” Lilian wore a slight smile. “I admire her dreams. They’re absolutely crazy, but they’re also . . . inspiring.”
“Inspiring?”
“You’re a thinker, Beth. Logical. Focused. Your father made sure of it. These are wonderful traits, especially in the corporate world.”
“I hear a ‘but’ coming on.”
“But you never pay attention to your heart.”
Beth sighed. “A heart can be very misleading.”
“And it can be empowering.” Lilian squeezed her arm. “You know you and your dad always had this special language only the two of you could understand. Somehow he always connected best with you and vice versa. I told myself that was fine. He was doing a fine job of raising you—but what I’ve realized is you got all of his good qualities and none of mine.”
Beth stilled. She’d never looked at it that way. She and her mother didn’t have the same bond she’d had with her father. Only now did she wonder how that made her mom feel.
“Your sister is the opposite. She’s all heart and very little logic.” Lilian stopped walking and looked at Beth. “Imagine what the two of you could accomplish together.”
Beth could feel the words settle on her shoulders with more weight than they should, as her parents’ words always had. They’d been so good about steering her in the right direction without controlling her life. It was how she’d learned to think for herself. But her mom was right.
“I never expected to work at Whitaker for this long. That was not in my plan.”
“I know.” They came to the end of the street and made a loop, heading back toward the house the way they had so many times before.
“And I’m not getting younger, so if I’m going to get out and make a difference in the world, I should probably do that now.”
“You’re talking about moving away.”
Frustration wound its way inside her. She didn’t get to run away from the mess she’d made—not when it hadn’t been completely cleaned up. Not when she was still keeping the truth hidden. “No, I can’t.”
“But it’s what you always wanted to do.”
“Yes.”
“Then what’s stopping you?”
So many things were stopping her. Molly’s idea, however, was not one of them.
In that moment, she had the briefest flashback to their family—all six of them—racing through the pumpkin patch in search of their perfect pumpkin. Seth had hauled a huge, half-rotten pumpkin to where their parents stood, and dropped it at Dad’s feet, claiming it was the one he wanted. The look on Dad’s face was caught in Beth’s memory like a photograph.
She didn’t disagree that Fairwind needed to be restored, that new generations of families needed to experience it for themselves.
She just disagreed that she and Molly were the ones to do it.
“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”
“What?”
“The farm. Molly’s proposal.”
“I would hardly call it a proposal. She got as far as ‘I bought Fairwind Farm’ and stopped.”
“But you are thinking about it. I can see it on your face.” Her mother’s lips settled into a soft, contented smile as she squeezed Beth’s arm. “I feel like I’m living with a bird in a cage. You’ve got wings, my darling daughter. Use them.”
“But shouldn’t I use them to create the life I’ve wanted instead of building a new one here with Molly?”
Lilian stayed quiet for a few long moments. “I suppose. If that’s what you really want.”
Beth sighed. “It’s like a conspiracy around here.”
“I assure you, it’s not.” Her mom’s tone stayed soft. “You just get these ideas in your head, Beth. The way things are supposed to be. The things you’re supposed to accomplish. I wish I could erase all of that and help you figure out what your heart wants.”
Beth shook her head. “That’s not how I’m wired.”
Her mother stopped shuffling. “That’s not how you think you’re wired.”
“I can’t believe we’re even having a conversation about this. What are you saying? You think I should join Molly in this crazy, doomed project?”
“You need a change.”
“I’m fine.” Beth stared off toward the house.
Lilian ignored her. “Can you think of a more exciting change than this?” Her eyes almost sparkled in the light of dusk. “For once in your life, what if you did something completely unexpected? What if you even surprised yourself?”
“Anything in Willow Grove isn’t exactly my idea of a surprise.”
“Beth, you live here. And there’s nothing wrong with that.”
Then why did it feel wrong?
She needed to stay focused on what really mattered. Making things right at Whitaker Mowers. Taking care of her mom. Being smart with her money.
And yet, as she drifted off to sleep that night, the image of a big white barn floated through her mind.