Anna imagined Jesse’s parents didn’t want their son to be Edenton’s first.

After dinner, Nellie wanted to show Anna around the farm. They put on their coats and walked together—Anna being careful where she stepped—and Nellie held her hand the whole time. They visited the barn and the mules and the kittens—all of whom Nellie had named—and the chicken coop. As they headed back to the house, Nellie said, “Can you come every Sunday?”, endearing her to Anna forever. She was a lovable child.

When they returned to the house, they were greeted by Jesse, his parents, and Aunt Jewel, who asked Anna to join them in the living room.

Finally! They would get down to the business of her visit.

The living room was large and homey, filled with handmade quilts folded neatly on the arm of nearly every chair, a braided rug in the center of the floor, and a large gray sofa. A fire crackled in the fireplace, and photographs of Jesse and his sisters, as well as children Anna didn’t recognize, covered one of the walls. She took a seat on the sofa, the cushion nearly swallowing her, it was so soft. She could tell from the atmosphere in the room that they were about to get down to brass tacks.

Jesse’s father finally spoke, taking the lead. “Jesse says you worried about him not stayin’ in school,” he said, “but I tell you, ain’t nobody gone all the way through high school in this family.”

Without thinking, Anna glanced at Aunt Jewel, who smiled.

“Not even me,” Aunt Jewel said, surprising her.

“Jesse got farther’n anybody,” his father said, “and we’re right proud of him. But we can use him on the farm, so if he’s ready to leave school, that’s fine by us.”

“But I’d like to see him go to art school somewhere,” Anna said, keeping her voice even. “And it will be easier for him to get in if he has a high school diploma.”

“Art school?” Mr. Williams smiled as though she’d amused him. “That’s some mighty high thinkin’ for a farm boy. The farm’s where he belong.”

“I don’t want to see his talent—” She was about to say “wasted,” but caught herself. It would be the same as telling this family their farm work had no value. “I want him to be able to develop his artistic skills,” she said instead. The thought of Jesse being stuck on the farm for the rest of his life distressed her terribly. “He’s immensely talented,” she said. “Far more talented than I am.” She looked across the room to see Jesse studying his hands in his lap. She knew him well enough, though, that she could tell he was holding back a smile at her words.