I turned and saw that everyone was ready. “Y’all a good-looking group with your new dos.”

My compliment was brushed off, the only thing on their minds being swimming, so I left my thoughts about Walynn for later and hurried to my room and made quick work of changing. A peek inside Pa’s room found him where I knew he’d be. Curled in a ball on Mama’s side of the bed, where he gravitated to when he was at his lowest. The only thing I knew to do for him was pray, so I offered that in silence and crept outside to join my siblings.

It had been a long day, and a few hours of swimming on top of that had worked up mean appetites for all of us. We set up underneath the overhang of the packhouse, where three picnic tables sat, and had ourselves a proper ice cream social. The conversation kept circling back to Walynn and it was no secret that she’d won over the entire lot of us.

“I like Miss Walynn.” Nash grinned, using his hand to clean the chocolate sauce from his chin, only to smear it worse. “I hope she goes swimming with us sometime. She’s nice.”

Knox and Nash had never experienced the sweet gift of having a mother. I wondered if it was possible to miss something you’d never had. With the way they clung to Walynn and her attention today, the answer was pretty clear.

Later that night, the guilt of them missing out on the sweetness of Mama had me reading a second book at bedtime and then having the boys say their own prayers as I patiently knelt beside them. This routine had become rushed and taken for granted, but it was time to put a stop to that for my brothers’ sake.

Standing in the darkened hallway, I inventoried those behind each closed door, my failures for each one stacking up high, more stifling than the damp heat outside. It was time to stop pretending to be some naive teenage girl and refocus on the responsibilities that were mine, no matter how difficult the burden could be at times.

Chapter 10: A SEASON OF CLARITY

September 1985

“We gonna have ourselves a Harvest Day celebration next Sunday. We’ll meet at the pond.” Pa stood tall and proud in front of the congregation. He’d gotten top dollar for the crop at market the prior week, and he said he wanted to celebrate this blessing from God. I’d heard of other churches having Harvest Day celebrations, but our little congregation had never had one before.

From what I gathered, a typical Harvest Day included a short sermon and special singing, followed by a covered-dish dinner. Of course, that wasn’t how Dave Foster rolled.

“What do we need to bring?” Walynn asked from the front pew she’d claimed as hers.