I heard the roar of an engine as I set the last of the day’s eggs into my basket. Being so far back from the main road, we didn’t really get any drive-by traffic, so I knew it was Dad, and the violent acceleration and grinding gears were a dead giveaway—the meeting had not gone well.

When I went inside, I found Mother sitting at the table, a bowl of half-shelled peas in front of her. She forced a smile, but I could see the strain around her mouth. Dad was in his room with the door closed. If it was daytime and that door was closed, then Dad was in bed, and he wasn’t coming out anytime soon.

“They can’t give us the loan,” she said in a low voice. “Since the banking crisis, the manager can’t lend money as easily as he used to. We didn’t understand the new rules.” The banks had all been closed for a time earlier in the year. With the Depression worsening, there had been a panic rush of people trying to withdraw their money, and that led to a bunch of banks collapsing. The government closed them all, made sure they were viable, then reopened most of them with new rules to keep people’s money safe. “Dad thought the farm would be good for collateral, but the bank said the price of land is dropping so fast they can’t risk it. We don’t have anything else to offer as security, so…”

The truck started just then, and I ran back to the door, just in time to see Henry spin the wheels as he took it right back out the drive.

“Those boys of ours, Lizzie…” Mother sighed, shaking her head sadly. “Neither one of them has the good sense to drive properly when they’re upset.”

“Where is Henry going?”

“I expect he’ll be going off to see Betsy,” she said, reaching for the peas.

“What are we going to do?”

She thought about that for a long time—long enough that I’d taken the seat opposite her and started helping with the peas before she answered.