And now I want so much more. I can get it, too, as long as I work hard and stay positive.”
“What do you want, Nora?”
She bit her lip for a second. Then very quietly she said, “I want to be like Maxie.” He gave her hand a little squeeze. “I’m going to do whatever is best for my children. That’s what I’m going to do.”
“And that, Nora, is probably more like Maxie than any other thing.”
“What was it like? Growing up with her?”
He gave a little laugh. “Probably not as easy as you might think. She was strict. I got real tired of hearing about the virtues of hard work and sacrifice. I’d complain to my grandpa about how hard she was on me and he told me she’d mellowed by the time I came along. She could really drive a person hard. I think the only one she didn’t get after was Grandpa. He was the sweetest man who ever lived. I don’t think he ever had a bad day—not that I could tell, anyway. And Maxie adored him. But she loved me in a much tougher way—if I didn’t do my chores, I didn’t get a pass. If I didn’t eat the green stuff on the plate, I could sit there till it grew mold. When I was sixteen, all I wanted in the world was a car so I didn’t have to take the bus to school or be driven by my grandmother and you know what she said? ‘I guess you’ll be wanting more hours in the orchard, won’t you, Tom?’”
“She paid you to work in the orchard?”
“Not the first twenty hours a week—that much was considered rent and food and clothes. I used to complain constantly about how hard she worked me. I couldn’t wait to get out of Virgin River and off that tree farm. I wanted to see the world—and boy did I see it. I should’ve thought that through—I saw a lot of ocean and desert. And look at me, back home.”
“What made you come home?”
“I was done,” he said. “I went as far as I could go and I missed the damn apple trees.”
“And Maxie,” she said. “You missed Maxie.”
“I did. It must have killed her for me to join the Marines, but she never said a word except, ‘You have to do what you have to do.’ And she used to always say, ‘If it was easy, anyone could do it.’ She was never discouraged by anything. One year we had a bad early freeze—messed up a lot of our crop and you know what Maxie said? She said the apples would be doubled and better than ever the next year—that nature suffers to fill a void. And they were.
“After four years of college and a little over six in the Corps, it finally occurred to me I might not have her forever and I came home. Some days I think that was the smartest thing I ever did. Some days I wonder if I won’t die of boredom one of these years.”
“Tom,” she said, almost shocked, “are you bored?”
“It has occurred to me there might be more to life than picking apples… .”
“Oh, no… I couldn’t imagine a better life! I could live the rest of my life on that orchard! I could be happy forever in that big, warm kitchen.”
He smiled at her. “You said you wanted a lot.”
“That is a lot!”
“What makes you so sure you could be happy in that life forever?” he asked her.
“Some things you just know! I mean, I was pretty disturbed to find out I was pregnant not once but twice, but would I consider life without my girls? Never! They are my life!”
“What about trips to Jamaica?” he asked her. “Front-row seats at an NBA playoff game? Lots of great restaurants ten times better than this one?”
“Could that be fun?” she asked with a shrug. “I suppose so. But would it be more important, more meaningful than home cooking, soft old quilts, warm fires, fresh fruits and vegetables every day of the year?” She shook her head. “I like that I have something to show for my hard work that really endures, I guess. Lasts longer than a trip to the islands.”
“Another argument for finishing college,” he pointed out to her.
Right at that moment their meals arrived and the waiter lingered by the table to be sure they didn’t need anything.