Part 15 (1/2)
”So I've made it to friend status, have I?”
Nudging me with her elbow, she says, ”I think so.”
Back at Rose's house, I sit at the huge white table in her kitchen while she fixes us ham and cheese sandwiches.
”Rose. Can I ask you something?”
Her hand stills while she spreads the mayonnaise on the bread. ”Um...oh...kay.”
”You seem to be getting around well...physically...and I can't tell for sure, but emotionally, you seem like you're getting better. Why aren't you going back to school in January?”
She finishes preparing the sandwiches, slides a plate in front of me, pours some iced tea into two gla.s.ses, and sits down across from me. ”I'm afraid,” Rose says, running her finger along the rim of her plate.
”Of what?” After I ask, I take a bite of my sandwich, and with a mouth full of ham & cheese, I exclaim, ”Holy h.e.l.l, this is awesome.” I swallow before continuing. ”The ham. It's...wow.”
Rose laughs. ”Yeah, well...it came from our farm.”
”What?”
”We live on a farm. My dad raises farm animals. That there sandwich was probably Missy.”
I push my plate away. ”What?”
”I'm joking.”
I pull the plate toward me.
”We don't name them.”
”Wait. What?”
”That's my father's business. We provide meat to the local butchers.” She must notice the expression on my face, because she says, ”It's all organic, if that helps. I'm sorry. Should I have not told you where the ham came from? I thought you knew it came from pig.”
”Uh...yeah...I guess it threw me for a moment.”
”If it bothers you, I can make you something else.”
I laugh now. ”No. I'm not a vegetarian. I eat meat. I just never knew anyone who knew their ham before they ate it.”
”You sure it doesn't bother you?”
”I'm sure.” I get back to my sandwich then, ”Why are you afraid, Rose, to go back to school?”
She runs her hand along the back of her neck.
”You don't have to answer that.” Maybe it makes her nervous to talk about it.
”I don't know why I'm afraid.” Her fingers tap the edge of her plate. ”Maybe I do. I don't know.”
I continue eating while she contemplates why she's afraid.
”It's gonna be all different. People will look at me differently. I don't know. I've never worried before what people thought of me, but...” She doesn't finish her thoughts.
”I think that's something you aren't going to be able to work on by staying hidden on your father's farm.”
”Would you like another sandwich? Or...a piece of cheesecake?” She effectively ignores my comment by appealing to my stomach.
”Cheesecake's perfect. Unless, of course, you killed something to make it?”
”Oh my G.o.d.” She laughs. ”I scarred you for life, didn't I?”
”You did. By making me eat poor ol' Porky.”
She shakes her head but continues to laugh. ”We just used Chicken Little's eggs. Oh, and my mom made cheese from Lady's milk.”
She's got to be joking.
”Lady's our cow. And no, Mom didn't make her own cheese, but she did get the eggs from our chickens.”
”Your last name isn't Ingalls, is it?”
”No. It's Walton.”
”You think you're quite funny, don't you?”
She hands me the slice of cake she just cut.
”None for you?” After I ask, I realize there are only two bites taken out of her sandwich.
”Nah. I'm good.”
”This is...amazing.”
”Yeah. Mom's a good cook.”
”You don't cook?”
”No. I'm not sure you even put eggs in cheesecake. Beth's the one who takes after my mom.”
”Who's the oldest out of you and your sisters?”
”Beth. Then it's me, Patti, and Terri. We're all just about a year apart.”
”Wow. That must have been crazy when you guys were younger.”