Alden received his next trucking schedule on Monday.
He was leaving Wednesday morning.
Two weeks away.
Three days home.
The same routine we had followed for thirty years.
He placed the schedule on the kitchen counter.
"Looks like I'm heading west again."
I nodded.
"All right."
He glanced at me.
"Make sure I have enough clean clothes."
"I'll check."
"And don't forget my blue shirt."
"I won't."
He seemed satisfied.
Then he looked toward the pasture.
The goats were grazing near the far fence.
He shook his head.
"I still don't understand why you agreed to that."
I was washing a cup.
"Because I wanted to."
He sighed.
"You're not going to change your mind?"
"No."
He walked away.
I finished washing the cup.
Then I opened the calendar.
I marked the day he was leaving.
I marked the date Miriam's next payment was due.
I also wrote down the day I planned to follow up with the bank.
I wanted the remaining account records.
I wanted to understand every transfer.
And I wanted everything documented.
That evening, Alden packed his travel bag.
He placed his work boots near the door.
His blue shirt was hanging in the closet.
His jeans were folded on the bed.
I had prepared everything.
But I was no longer doing it because I was afraid of his reaction.
I was doing it because I had decided how I wanted to handle my own household.
The next morning, he came downstairs at five.
He drank coffee.
He ate two pieces of toast.
Then he checked his phone.
"Got to get moving."
I handed him his lunch.
He took it without looking at me.
"Thanks."
He picked up his keys.
Then he stopped.
"Joanne."
I looked up.
"What?"
"I don't want any more surprises while I'm gone."
I held his gaze.
"What kind of surprises?"
"You know what I mean."
I didn't answer.
He continued.
"No more running to the courthouse. No more calling the bank. No more making deals with the Yoders without talking to me."
I put my coffee cup down.
"Alden, I will make decisions about my property and my pension."
He stared at me.
"You really think you can keep doing this?"
"Yes."
He shook his head.
Then he picked up his travel bag.
The door closed behind him.
A few minutes later, I heard the big rig start.
I watched it move down the road.
Then I went back inside.
The house was quiet.
I opened the kitchen drawer and checked my folder.
Everything was there.
The certified deed.
The pasture agreement.
The bank statements.
The pension confirmation.
I made a list of the remaining questions.
I wasn't going to forget anything.
At ten, I drove to the bank.
The teller told me that the additional records were still being processed.
I asked when I could expect them.
She gave me an estimate.
I wrote it down.
Then I asked for another copy of the account closure information.
She helped me complete the request.
I thanked her and left.
On the way home, I stopped at Miriam's farm.
She was outside near the barn.
"Joanne! How are you?"
"A little busy."
She laughed.
"That's usually a good sign."
I told her Alden had left for another run.
She nodded.
"Two weeks?"
"Two weeks."
She looked toward the pasture.
"We'll keep everything in good shape."
"I appreciate that."
She showed me the latest work on the fence.
The gate was closing properly.
The wire was tight.
The goats had plenty of grass.
Everything looked exactly as we had agreed.
Then Miriam invited me to sit for coffee.
I accepted.
We talked about the coming week.
Her husband had arranged for someone to deliver feed.
One of her children had a school event.
She had been meaning to repair a small section of the barn roof.
Ordinary life.
It felt good.
When I returned home, I opened the kitchen window.
The air smelled like rain.
I put the kettle on.
Then I took Daddy's photograph from the shelf.
I looked at his face.
"Well, Daddy, I finally did something with that pasture."
I smiled.
I placed the photograph back.
That afternoon, Alden called from the road.
His number appeared on my phone.
I answered.
"Hello, honey."
"Did you get the clothes put away?"
"Yes."
"And the blue shirt?"
"Everything is ready for when you get home."
He seemed pleased.
"Good."
Then he asked whether I had heard from his sisters.
I told him Linda had called the previous week.
He asked what she wanted.
I said she wanted to know how things were going.
He laughed.
"She's worried about you."
I looked toward the folder on the table.
"She can call me if she wants to ask."
He didn't respond.
Then he mentioned that he expected to be home in about two weeks.
I told him I understood.
Before ending the call, he reminded me about chicken and dumplings.
I smiled.
"I'll see what I can do."
He laughed.
"That's my Joanne."
After the call ended, I put the phone down.
I looked at the calendar.
Two weeks.
I had two weeks to collect the remaining records.
Two weeks to keep the pasture arrangement running smoothly.
Two weeks to make sure my pension stayed where it belonged.
And two weeks to decide what I wanted to say when Alden returned.
I wasn't planning to shout.
I wasn't planning to embarrass him.
I wasn't planning to make a scene in front of the neighbors.
I wanted him to look at the facts.
I wanted him to understand that I had spent forty-five years being patient.
And patience was not the same thing as surrender.
I went outside.
The goats were grazing quietly.
The repaired gate stood firmly between the field and the road.
I placed my hand on the old wooden post.
Daddy had put it there.
Alden had spent years calling the pasture his.
But the deed had never changed.
And neither had the name written on it.
Click here to continue reading: PART 17: Two Days Before Alden Came Home, the Bank Finally Released the Records, and I Discovered the One Thing He Had Never Expected Me to Find
My Pension Disappeared Before Breakfast, and the Woman at the Bank Told Me Something I Never Expected to Hear
Part 16 of 20
