Patterns of Swallows (42 page)

But Bo had given her a chance.
Ruth couldn’t help the warmth that the thought roused in her –
a little throb of pride as though Bo belonged to her in some way
(which he didn’t). But it was positive pleasure to be able to
call such a man her friend.

She’d do her best to help
Phil out and ensure she made a success of her first job. Together,
they wouldn’t let Bo down. He wouldn’t be sorry he’d
hired Phil; Ruth would make sure of it.

*
* *

It was more work than she’d
imagined to make sure Phil succeeded at her first job.

The job wasn’t
complicated, but Phil was prone to fits of wool-gathering. Ruth
worked next to her on the sorting line so she could keep an eye on
her.

And Phil needed it. Ruth would
often look up to find Phil distracted and gawking around at all the
other workers.

“
Phil,”
she’d say in an undertone, and Phil would hastily lower her
eyes to the apples slipping by on the conveyor belt.

Bo asked Ruth privately how Phil
was doing.

“
She’ll
work out just fine,” Ruth said. She was determined she would.

“
Thanks,”
Bo said, looking meaningfully at her. “I’ve noticed you
helping her. Eddie wasn’t sure about me taking her on, but I
told him I was sure she could do it, and I’d be responsible for
her. I appreciate what you’re doing. I know she’s
trying hard. I really want this to work out for her. Give her a bit
of confidence, maybe, if she can see this one through.”

“
And
she will,” Ruth said.

“
I
think so, too,” Bo said. “If you keep helping her out.
I know you’re quite capable of doing your own work and helping
her do hers, too, but I wanted to make sure it wasn’t too much
for you if I count on you to keep her on task.”

“
I
can handle it,” Ruth said. “She’s not doing badly,
really. Just needs a little reminder now and again. It will
probably get easier for her over time.”

“
Thanks,”
Bo said again.

It never did come naturally to
Philippa to keep her mind on her job, but between Ruth and Bo, she
held on to her job till the end of the season and collected her last
pay with a little flush of triumph at the words of commendation Eddie
Hoffstetter gave to every worker as he passed out the final cheques.

*
* *

It was two or three weeks since
Ruth had fallen off the ladder ... and since she had been busy
convincing herself that it was the only tumble she’d taken.

Her mother-in-law sensed
something in the wind.

“
Why
don’t we have Bo over for supper one night, celebrate the end
of apple harvest?” she said to Ruth one day.

“
Fine
by me. As long as Lily doesn't object to seeing him or he doesn't
object to seeing her, and I don't suppose either of them would
object. All ancient history between them, anyways,” Ruth
answered.

“
Find
out what evening would be good for him when you see him today, will
you?”

“
Maybe
you could ask him,” Ruth said casually.

“
Why
on earth would I ...? You see him every day. No reason I should ask
him when you see him every day, is there? What’s going on with
the two of you? Did you have a squabble?”

“
No,
no, of course not,” Ruth said, “I just thought ... I
mean, maybe it would be ... well, it was your idea. I mean, you’re
doing the cooking. You should do the inviting. I don’t want
him to think ... I want him to know it isn’t just me asking
him,” Ruth finished lamely.

“
Ruth
...”

“
Yes?”

“
Can
I ask you something?”

“
You
just did,” Ruth said, laughing.

“
You
know what I mean.”

“
This
sounds ominous.”

“
Well,
I don’t want you to think I’m prying into your business.”

Ruth gave her a long look.

“
After
all we’ve been through together, do you really imagine I have
any business that isn’t your business as well?”

“
Well,
but I’m not sure that’s how it should be. You should
have the right to a life of your own. I shouldn’t have to know
all of your business.”

“
Well,
but you do. And if you didn’t, I’d want you to, anyways.
So fire away. Ask me anything you like.”

“
All
right then. What’s going on with you and Bo? Something’s
happened.”

“
Wha'd'you
mean?”

“
I
mean, I’ve noticed him. I’ve seen the way he looks at
you. I’m not quite blind yet. He’s said something to
you, hasn’t he?”

“
Yes.”

“
And?”

“
And?”

“
And
... what answer did you give him?”

“
Answer?
I'm not sure what answer I gave him. I wasn't even sure what the
question was or if he got around to asking me any questions. But, to
be honest, I suppose I did make it clear to him that I could never
... see him in that way – that I could never feel about him the
way he would want me to. And he promised me then that the subject
would be closed forever between us. He'd never bother me about it
anymore.”

“
Oh.”
Her mother-in-law looked down at her hands in her lap.

“
You
sound disappointed.”

“
Shouldn’t
I be?”

“
How
could you be? Graham's ... I’ve only been widowed for two
months. Surely you wouldn’t think ... It wouldn’t be
right ...”

“
Well,
sure, I admit it’s too soon. But the decisive answer you gave
him, well, it doesn’t leave much room for hope, does it? I
mean, I know you pretty well by now, and you’re not one to
change your mind ever, are you?”

“
Not
usually,” Ruth said, not catching Mom’s eye.

"I know you must have a lot
of fear when you think of letting yourself feel anything for anyone
ever again, but I can't help wishing that if you were to find someone
else someday that it could be someone like Bo. He's a godly man, a
man of faith. I believe that was what Graham lacked and why he
couldn't be the husband to you he should've been. We've never talked
very much before about what you believe. I guess you know what I
believe, and I've always thought we share those beliefs. But Graham
didn't share our faith. I can only hope and pray he came to in the
end. It makes a marriage hard if two people don't share the most
important thing in the world. But you and Bo would have that common
ground if such a time came."

"I think you're right, Mom.
About Graham, I mean. That was probably a big part of what was
lacking in our marriage. We didn't share that common ground. I
regret it now, that I didn't try harder with him. I didn't want to
antagonize him, so I'd say nothing. And I should have. Course, I
didn't know much about it all back when I married him. It was still
pretty new to me. I've been familiar with what the Bible has to say
all my life, but somehow the main point of it hadn't sunk in. If
Graham and I had shared that understanding, I think you're right that
it would have made all the difference."

"Don't take that on
yourself, Ruth. I'm his mother. I could have tried harder with him,
too. But, like you say, I didn't like to antagonize him either. And
he could be antagonistic any time the subject came anywhere near
things of faith. I don't know. Maybe I should've pushed a little
more with him. Or maybe it wouldn't have helped. Ultimately, we all
make our own choices, and Graham knew the truth even if he chose to
do nothing about it. Well, we'll never know where he was really at.
Not in this life, anyway."

The subject of Bo dropped, and
Ruth felt only slightly guilty about not coming completely clean with
Mom when she said that she didn't "usually" change her
mind. After all, she hadn’t changed her mind. Something had
changed, but it wasn’t her mind. And whatever it was that had
changed wouldn’t last long. Surely not!

Neither one of them got around
to asking Bo for supper on that occasion.

Mom
had convinced Ruth to sing in the Christmas cantata at the church.

"But
I don't know how to read music," Ruth had protested.

"Don't
worry. You can learn the parts by ear. Most of the songs will be
familiar ones, anyway. When Mr. Neudorf hears your voice, he won't
let you get away without joining. My goodness, they forced me to
join, and I sing like an old crow. I can read a little music even
though I can't sing, so together we'll be a perfect team. You can
sing even if you can't read the notes, and I'll help you learn the
parts. Mr. Neudorf is nearly desperate to get more sopranos."
(Ralph Neudorf was the choir director.)

So
Ruth found herself part of the Christmas choir.

During
the first song at the first practice, Mr. Neudorf moved closer to the
soprano section and leaned toward Ruth.

"Sing
up, Ruth. I can't quite pick out your voice," he said as the
song finished.

"Oh,
but I don't know the song. It'll take a few times through for me to
learn it."

"Well,
then, let's try 'O Little Town of Bethlehem' next then. You must
know that one."

Ruth
sang. But shyly.

Mr.
Neudorf leaned toward her again.

"Let's
try it again, and this time through, I want to hear
everyone
!"
he said, looking significantly at Ruth.

When
the song finished the second time through, he turned to her.

"Ruth,
I think we ought to feature your voice somehow. How would you like
to take a solo verse in 'O Little Town?' "

"A
solo? I don't ... I've never ... I don't sing for people."

"Well,
then, it's time you started," the choir director told her and
ended the discussion.

Just
like that, Ruth found herself with a solo part. And terrified to
have it. To make matters worse, her self-consciousness around Bo had
not lessened noticeably. As she quavered her way through her solo
verse week after week, grimacing at the nervousness she could hear in
her voice, she was horribly, uncomfortably aware of Bo, listening
from the bass section.

*
* *

And
then there was life with Lily.

The hardest thing was watching
the life grow inside of Lily. That life that Lily hadn't deserved,
hadn't wanted, and didn't treasure – a life that was a little
of Lily and a little of Graham and still wholly other.

And the life that had grown
inside of Ruth for only those few, short weeks was somewhere else.
She was sure it was a good place, and she wouldn't be sorry in the
end about it, but for now, all she could think was that the place was
a place where she would never be able to feel that life moving inside
of her or someday stroke its rosy cheeks as it slept.

And it was hard. It was hard to
listen to Lily complain about a sore back and swollen feet and all
the clothes she could no longer wear.

If she
thinks this stage is hard
,
Ruth thought,
how
will she manage sleepless nights and crying bouts that won't stop and
endless diapers to be washed?

Ruth was afraid she knew the
answer to that question. Lily would no doubt manage those
difficulties the way she'd managed all her difficulties so far. By
letting someone else manage her difficulties for her.

The thought irked. Yes, life
with Lily was not easy. No doubt about it.

And yet, underneath were the
everlasting arms. Ruth found that strength outside of herself,
buoying her along when she was sure she'd had all she could take of
Lily Turnbull. Grace for each moment. She knew she could rely on
that same grace to carry her through sleepless nights, crying bouts
that wouldn't stop, and endless diapers to be washed.