A Merry Little Christmas (5 page)

“Are you still cold?” Franny walked so quickly, he nearly had to run to keep up with her.

“No, I was just wondering what I’d do for food when you’re gone. You’re a good cook, Franny.”

“Thanks, but you’ll do fine. I had to learn too. My mother taught me some of it, but I’m afraid that when I was younger I wasn’t always paying attention to what she told me. So I made a lot of mistakes. You will too.” Franny turned around and smiled at him.

It looked as if the sun had already come up in her smile. Charlie loved her face that way.

Minutes later, they arrived in the kitchen to mounds of steaming food. Charlie pulled out a chair for Franny and encouraged her to sit down. He heaped her plate full of eggs and biscuits and gravy and handed it to her.

“Thanks.” She accepted the plate. “I’m not used to anyone serving me.”

Wish you could get used to it. Wish you could stay a little longer. A lot longer.
If she stayed, he would devote his time to finding ways to please her, just to get her face to light up as it had now.

Charlie sat down but nearly missed the seat.

They both laughed.

“You sure I can birth pigs? I can’t even sit down.”

“You’ll be great.” Franny took a big forkful of eggs. “The babies usually come all by themselves, but sometimes they need a little help. So we’re there in case Mom needs us.”

Charlie sat so close to Franny that he wished he’d showered. Hopefully he’d have plenty of time later in the morning. Farmers surely took coffee breaks.

After Charlie scarfed down a second helping of breakfast, they headed to the farrowing house. The morning was so hushed, he could hear his breathing. See it too. His boots crunched on the mud-spackled ground. Although he still felt tired and the hour seemed unnaturally early, the moment was agreeable. The stars were still out, full of audacious glory, the air as crisp as fall apples, and the smell of—his reverie halted at the pungent, stinging odor of hog manure. “That scent. Ohh, that is profane.”

“My father always said it was the smell of money.”

Charlie laughed. Sounded like something
his
father would say, only it would have been accompanied by a colorful expletive.

The farrowing house turned out to be a small redbrick structure, which held several pen-like metal apparatuses with places for the sows to rest on their sides to birth and feed their young without concern of accidentally stepping on them. The contraption, which appeared to be homemade, looked ingenious. “Did you make these?”

“My daddy did. He kept experimenting until he figured out this design. He made them himself with his welding machine and metal scraps from around the farm.” Franny showed him the gate and the levers.

“Looks like an engineering marvel.” Charlie looked down at Tutti, who seemed happy to be there.

“Daddy would have appreciated hearing that from someone who must be very used to hearing brilliant ideas.”

“Well, some of the people my father invites to the house are better at being slick than smart.” Charlie grasped the metal railing. “Did your father ever try to get a patent on this device?”

“No, but it’s a thought.” Franny turned on a heat lamp and angled it toward the sow.

“At least it’s warmer in here.” Charlie opened his coat. “So what can I do to help? Looks like the work is done. How did Tutti get in this thing, anyway?”

Franny shrugged, tossing a sheepish grin at him. “I wanted to let you sleep in a bit, so I got up early enough to make sure Tutti was ready to go.”

Sleep in a bit?
He almost laughed. He’d never been up this early in his life. “Next time, though, no matter how sissified I act, get me up to help you. All right?”

“All right.”

“Now that I’m here, what can I do?”

“Well, you can help Tutti by keeping her calm. Scratch her behind the ears and talk to her like you’re her friend. This is her first litter, so she might be a little skittish.”

Charlie knelt down next to the sow’s head, reached over the railing, and stroked her behind the ears. He felt awkward, but he’d get over it soon enough. He didn’t think he’d ever met a pig before—at least not of the hooved variety.

Tutti seemed to give him an appraisal. She looked dubious of his abilities.
You’re not alone with that sentiment.

Franny added some hay here and there and then knelt down on the other side of the pen. “Why don’t you try whispering to her?”

Ah yes, sweet nothings. “All right. Let’s see.” He had no idea what he could say to calm a sow during labor, but he’d give it a try. “Tutti, you’re probably thinking this could be the worst of times. But then again, you might be thinking it’s the best of times. Or maybe it’s what you’ve waited a lifetime for. Still. You’re bound to be scared. You might even doubt that you can do this thing.”

He raised his hands for effect. “Yes, you might even be dealing with a whole slop bucket full of misgivings and insecurities.”
Like me.
“Trepidation and shilly-shallying.” He rolled his eyes. He was making a mess of things, but Franny urged him on with a nod. “You’re probably even wondering how you got into such a predicament. But there’s good news, Tutti. Yes, good news. Franny’s here. That’s right. She’s here, keeping watch, and I promise, everything’s going to be just fine.”

Tutti grunted contentedly and then rested her head on the floor.

When Charlie looked into Franny’s eyes, they were misty.

“Charlie? That was so…”

“Yes?”

Franny reined in her emotions. “I’m sure
Tutti
thought that was beautiful, Charlie. Thank you.”

“Anytime.” Charlie’s face shadowed with what looked like disappointment.

Perhaps he’d wanted her to say how much she’d loved his tender sow soliloquy, but there was no reason to get overly sentimental. She would be leaving for the city in three weeks—the day after Thanksgiving. “I was thinking of the upcoming holiday. I assume you’ll be going home for Thanksgiving. Do you all have a big dinner in the city?”

Charlie paused and then said, “My father doesn’t really celebrate the day. As far as home goes, I’m wanting to make this farm my new home.”

Franny had never heard of anyone not celebrating Thanksgiving. She had a hundred more questions about his family life but thought it best to leave the subject alone for now. “Well, then, I’ll make us a turkey dinner you won’t soon forget.”

“Only if you’ll let me help.”

Franny nodded, gripped the metal railing, and told herself to get back to business. “By the way, it’s good you’re getting the hang of this.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because just about the time I’m gone, there’ll be another sow ready to have her babies.”

“Oh?” His smile warped into a grimace.

Franny grinned.

“The other sow is also a Yorkshire breed, and she’s an eventempered animal. You shouldn’t have any problems with her. No misgivings or insecurities. No trepidation or shilly-shallying.” Franny hoped Charlie didn’t mind a bit of teasing. “But you need to know that the other sow loves Chuck Berry music.”

“So what’s the other hog’s name? Frutti?”

“You guessed it.” Franny clapped her hands in the air.

Tutti let out a squeal, and the cry startled them both into action.

Charlie went back to scratching Tutti behind her perky ears. “Now what do we do? Her breathing is pretty heavy. I don’t think this is working anymore.”

Franny repositioned the light. “The first baby is about to arrive.”

“Really?”

“Maybe if we sing her favorite song, she’ll settle down.”

“What is it?”

“It’s ‘I Love You Truly.’ Do you know it?” Franny pulled a couple of bobby pins out of her pocket and pinned back her bangs. She’d helped sows in the farrowing pens countless times, and yet it always made her a little anxious. Perhaps she could feel the moment more intensely because she was also female, and deep down she knew one day she might be the one struggling to have her child.

“I know the song a little,” Charlie said. “I heard it on the radio when I was a kid.”

“Good.” Franny started the song.

Charlie sang along with her.

Then Franny broke into harmony while Tutti birthed the first of the litter.

Charlie came around to Franny’s side and knelt beside her, and together they gazed down at the pink, wriggling newborn pig. Franny wiped the piglet with a cloth and then set it down to suckle. “Too much intervention isn’t good, so remember to keep your handling of the babies to a minimum.”

“Got it.”

The piglet rooted around for a minute, almost seeming about to give up, and then, as if realizing how hungry it was, reached out and took its very first drink of nectar.

Charlie grasped the metal bars. “I’m speechless.”

“That’s the way I felt the first time I helped my father. It’s one of the many miracles farmers are privileged to see.” When Franny turned her face back toward Charlie, he was very near her. They gazed at each other, and the moment suddenly turned into a dreamy drive-in movie scene—when the guy gets so close and stays so close that there’s no doubt what his starry-eyed stare is all about. In the movie, he searches the girl’s eyes to make sure she’s receptive and isn’t planning to retaliate with a stinging wallop, and then the audience gets what they came for. The magic. Music builds as the amorous moment comes to fruition with a sweet-as-a-rosebud kiss.

Franny knew it as sure as she knew the
Farmers’ Almanac
—Charlie was going to kiss her.

But.

They hadn’t even been on a date yet. Charlie hadn’t bought her a sandwich or a Coca-Cola. Even Derek Mauler—who was a royal clodhopper when it came to dating—had accomplished that much. Yes, if she were ever going to kiss Charlie Landau, it would have to be somewhere a little more romantic than a pigpen!

Just as Charlie leaned down to execute the oldest boy-girl tradition in the world, Franny turned her head toward Tutti. “I think we’d better get back to it, Charlie. We’re about to have another baby.”

Amusement lit Charlie’s eyes, and then he chuckled.

Franny grinned at him as they both went back to their posts.
Is Charlie trying to be adorable, or did God just make him that way?
He was like some sort of angel. Wouldn’t
that
make a dreamy song—Charlie Angel? It would be so easy, too easy, to find more things to teach Charlie just so she could stay around a little longer. He was, after all, a novice beyond anything she could have imagined. But he was an adorable novice. “
Have
to stop thinking that.”

“What did you say?”

“Oh, just arguing with myself.” Franny toweled off another piglet and went through her usual routine.

“Yeah, I do that sometimes…argue with myself.”

“And who wins?”

“It’s usually a tie.”

Franny laughed. They kept up the banter until all twelve Yorkshire piglets were eating and squirming and tumbling happily over themselves. When they were all finished eating, they piled up in the corner near the heat lamp and went to sleep.

“We should celebrate.” Charlie stood and wiped his hands on his overalls. “This is a major life accomplishment. We’ve birthed ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas.’ ”

“Well, I guess we could make merry by feeding the cattle.” Franny grinned.

“Can’t think of a better way to celebrate.”

What a guy.

When lunchtime rolled around, Charlie seemed to have an appetite with no boundaries. Before long she might have to dig into the back of her pantry for more jars of her home-canned fruits and vegetables. She’d put up extra last season, so she hoped he’d have enough to last through the winter, even with his voluminous appetite. It felt good to cook for someone, though, especially for someone who enjoyed her food like he did. Charlie complimented her so often that it brought on a blush. But soon she’d have to say good-bye to that schoolgirl delight too.

Just as Charlie finished up the last bite of his lard-laced cinnamon pie, the telephone rang.

Franny answered it and listened as Eunice Raeburn gave her the extended version of the town’s latest news. But right in the middle of her speech, Franny heard heavy breathing, and it wasn’t Eunice. “Jinni Lynn, I can hear you listening in. Give us a minute, please.” She heard a click.
Good.
Jinni—the youngest of the neighbor’s daughters—hung up the telephone. The closer Jinni got to her teen years, the harder it was to endure a party line, since the girl lived most of her waking life on the telephone. Eunice went on to give Franny a few more distressing details surrounding the reason for her call and then hung up.