that took place between women. The pettiness, the envy or jealousy. If anything, he found those types of scenes comical. He had no idea how threatened Susan felt, even after they married. Nor did he take seriously her plan to merge the Jarrod and Murphy land holdings to form a great dynasty, as she called it, and subdivide it to sell to a developer.
If you asked Tom, Susan watched too much television. What she was describing sounded like the 1980s evening soap opera, Dynasty, with her playing the Joan Collins role. He didn’t understand, until too late, that Susan meant every word she said. And she was determined to get her way.
So, although the noose tightened, he stayed. He called and wrote Pam for nearly a year. Then gave up. Years later, when he became convinced his marriage was doomed, he thought about taking off again. Then, one day his father showed up at the city house where Tom and Susan lived. It had been a wedding present from her father.
“There’s a few cows looking like they got through the fence. They’re straying onto Parson’s place. I need a hand.”
“Sure, Dad,” Tom answered. He hoped the physical labor would take his mind off his problems.
John Jarrod stayed silent during the entire ten-minute trip. Which was fine with Tom. He wasn’t sure he could control himself to utter anything other than obscenities at the time. When they got to the farm, he noticed two of their five horses were saddled up, looking like they were waiting for them.
“Let’s go for a ride,” his father said, not waiting for a reply. Silent again, they rode to the top of the highest point of their property, overlooking their land for miles around.
His father slowed the horse. “No matter what, Son,” he began. “This land belongs to you. Sometimes, it doesn’t yield as much as we want. And most times, I know, it seems like just one big pain in the butt. But it will always be here for you.”
Tom and his father never shared what one could call a really close relationship. Sure they got along, but John Jarrod was a quiet man. He came and went as he pleased, he worked hard and long, and he held a lot close to the chest. This was the first time Tom could remember him using so many words at one time. And, to Tom’s surprise, he wasn’t finished.
“I guess it was the way I was raised, but I always figured you, me, and your brother would always live here and work the land and the animals together. Sure, you’d get married, have some kids, but we’d always be together.” He shrugged. “It sort of threw me when Ted said he wanted to go to college. It shocked me more when he didn’t move back after graduating. I don’t like it, but I’ve tried to understand and accept it. The same way I’ve tried to understand you marrying Susan and moving into that big, fancy house in town.” He paused to adjust the Phillies baseball cap shadowing the midday sun from his face. Then sighed.
“I guess I really can’t blame you. People just don’t stay put the way they used to. And there are so many choices now. So many opportunities that weren’t available in my younger days. It wasn’t that way for me growing up. My life, like your grandfather’s, even your mom’s, was already mapped out for me.
“I got to tell you. After you moved out of the house, I gave it only a couple of weeks before you didn’t turn up one morning to work the cows. It’s tough enough dragging ourselves out of bed at those awful hours, just to walk a few yards to the barn. A twelve-mile trip each day, two times a day, was asking a bit much I figured.”
Tom realized his father was now looking at him. “Maybe I’m talking too soon, but it hasn’t happened yet. You’ve showed up every day, even more on time than when we lived under the same roof. I want to thank you for that.”
To Tom, this entire conversation was unimaginable. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat.
“Sure, Dad.”
“I guess the reason I brought you out here today was because I wanted you to know that Mom and I understand if you want out. For a while or for however long you need. We can sell a bunch of acres and give you the cash. Sort of like part of